It's on Culture Hacker, here.
7.08.2010
Cross-Post: Elan "Culture Hacker" Lee
I finally, finally got around to publishing the first in a series on Elan Lee, "transmedia" designer extraordinaire.
It's on Culture Hacker, here.
It's on Culture Hacker, here.
Drive On, Sisters!
Awesomeness number 1: Palestinian women get to race with the boys
Awesomeness number 2: Women driving race cars
Having fantasized about race car driving since I first saw Heart Like A Wheel, I am completely in tune with these Palestinian women who want a good reason to drive fast as hell.
And of course, all the social equity and individual freedoms they exercise in doing it is rad, too.
[via Muslim Voices]
Awesomeness number 2: Women driving race cars
Having fantasized about race car driving since I first saw Heart Like A Wheel, I am completely in tune with these Palestinian women who want a good reason to drive fast as hell.
And of course, all the social equity and individual freedoms they exercise in doing it is rad, too.
[via Muslim Voices]
7.02.2010
6.30.2010
Let's Call It "Leviathan"
How satisfying is it when scientists discover proof of real things that should be imaginary?!
On the other hand, since when have scientists been naming prehistoric beasts marketing-ready, sensation-titillating titles like "Leviathan?" I am disturbed by this.
But that's a really really big, toothy whale! And it's awesome!
I also like knowing that these somewhat mythical/mystical fears of deep, dark places come from some ancient universal knowledge of death. Or the means of death by large, unpredictable, meat-eating creatures. Now we're just afraid of the idea of the threat.
On the other hand, since when have scientists been naming prehistoric beasts marketing-ready, sensation-titillating titles like "Leviathan?" I am disturbed by this.
But that's a really really big, toothy whale! And it's awesome!
I also like knowing that these somewhat mythical/mystical fears of deep, dark places come from some ancient universal knowledge of death. Or the means of death by large, unpredictable, meat-eating creatures. Now we're just afraid of the idea of the threat.
Wonder Woman Is Dead!
Thanks, DC Comics. Thanks a lot.
You've basically taken the only morally and intellectually respectable superheroine from your pantheon and tarted her up.
How the fuck am I supposed to take her seriously now?
Not only is she NOT a real goddess, she has some teen romance novel genesis that surely involves exposure to potential rape/molestation and gang violence. Cause now she's gonna be "tough".
You idiots. You keep hiring men to write these stories when the vast majority of male writers have proven time and time again that they have no idea what women are really like.
You know, there are more young women growing up relatively privileged in the suburbs [myself included, without question] than there are girls who are somehow abandoned by their family and grow up fighting off the dangers of the streets. We need idols too.
The Wonder Woman genesis story is what makes her universally relatable. That she chooses to be a fucking badass on the side of good is what makes her admirable. That she fucks up occasionally is what makes her human. And the fact that she does it all in a hot bustier and star spangled shorts makes her a true heroine.
So don't give me some post-modern psychological struggle, I've had enough of that [and I enjoyed Twilight very much, thank you]. Don't give me dark eye make-up and a leather jacket as stand-ins for true mental and physical toughness, I can read Cosmo for that.
I need a heroine. I need to know that there is something greater that is possible, even if only in my imagination. I need a model for myself as a woman that doesn't rely on Freudian fixations or some attempt at compensation for the phallus I lack.
Give me a goddess, or give me death!
...
This half-assed creative purgatory is too awful to endure.
Sigh
Fine, I'll give it a try. But it's not looking promising.
You've basically taken the only morally and intellectually respectable superheroine from your pantheon and tarted her up.
How the fuck am I supposed to take her seriously now?
Not only is she NOT a real goddess, she has some teen romance novel genesis that surely involves exposure to potential rape/molestation and gang violence. Cause now she's gonna be "tough".
You idiots. You keep hiring men to write these stories when the vast majority of male writers have proven time and time again that they have no idea what women are really like.
You know, there are more young women growing up relatively privileged in the suburbs [myself included, without question] than there are girls who are somehow abandoned by their family and grow up fighting off the dangers of the streets. We need idols too.
The Wonder Woman genesis story is what makes her universally relatable. That she chooses to be a fucking badass on the side of good is what makes her admirable. That she fucks up occasionally is what makes her human. And the fact that she does it all in a hot bustier and star spangled shorts makes her a true heroine.
So don't give me some post-modern psychological struggle, I've had enough of that [and I enjoyed Twilight very much, thank you]. Don't give me dark eye make-up and a leather jacket as stand-ins for true mental and physical toughness, I can read Cosmo for that.
I need a heroine. I need to know that there is something greater that is possible, even if only in my imagination. I need a model for myself as a woman that doesn't rely on Freudian fixations or some attempt at compensation for the phallus I lack.
Give me a goddess, or give me death!
...
This half-assed creative purgatory is too awful to endure.
Sigh
Fine, I'll give it a try. But it's not looking promising.
6.22.2010
Body Type Imaging
Last summer at around this time I was in killer shape. I was swimming over a mile every day and running somewhere between 3-5 miles roughly five days a week. I walked everywhere. I was eating vegetables and protein, the occasional beer and burger, and even using soy creamer in my iced coffee (a nutritional and gastronomic tragedy). I felt great and I looked fucking amazing.
This is not last summer. I can cite many reasons for my current physical shape, but really it all comes down to being lazy (and I'm sorry, but there's nothing better than half and half in iced coffee - I am never going back). Well, it's a lot more complicated than laziness, maybe I should cite the reasons.
OK, so first it was this guy... We started seeing each other pretty much every day almost immediately (sometimes it just happens like that, despite all my better judgment...more of that to come, sadly). After a lifetime of running track, he was ready to kick back, watch movies, eat pizza and get fat. And, you know, understandably. I tried for a while to encourage him to go to the gym - mostly so that I could get my ass there and not be tempted by the distractions of infatuation. But - and this brings me to a whole other rant-tangent along which I will not proceed for the moment, but which needs to be gotten into at some point - he wasn't into it. He wanted to sit around. And I ended up doing a lot of sitting around with him.
When I was deciding to apply to the Marine Corps - the results of that process are another wonderfully long tangent that I will also get into at another time, but, needless to say, helped get me to this point right now - I was working out really intensely. I was getting up at 6 every day [yes, in answer to your unstated question, the boy was not in my bed every night at this point] and doing 3 day-cycle super sets (dude, it's the best: back & biceps, legs, chest & tris, one day off a week..anyway) in the weight area that, at this time, was occupying the sw corner of the Wildermuth auditorium. Some time between 3 - 6pm I was running 3 or more miles. But eventually, as the thesis loomed larger and the days got shorter, I wasn't really running. But I was building a truckload of muscle. Seriously, it was impressive.
Then the magnitude of completing my thesis hit me in the face like a freight train because, you know, I procrastinated like a motherfucker.
And I spent the next 8 weeks or so in the library for like, 16-20 hour days. Eating kind of whatever and whenever, and looking at the gym, and walking by the gym, and just not being able to take the additional demands of discipline that would get me in there to just DO something. Ugh. My brain's fat sometimes, too.
So, that and the post-graduation month of self indulgence later, and I feel gross. But I am kind of fat - for me; this is not a normative judgment of other people's bodies - and I think I look FANTASTIC! My boobs and butt and thighs are huge, and I look overripe and delicious.
But I am missing my very active lifestyle. But I just want to move around a lot, like I did when I was riding my bike around new york everywhere. The gym is great for its sweaty, focused, grungy awesomeness (well, it's gotta be the right kind of gym obviously - no chichi shit) and I love my muscles. It's really kind of Wonder Woman...
Riding around, or walking around, or playing games, however, is mentally and physically stimulating in a different kind of way. Play is just different.
And I want to start doing triathlons. Which is a whole different caliber of "doing something". I'm talking superhero shit. Where you can run and jump and climb and live physically present. Word.
This is not last summer. I can cite many reasons for my current physical shape, but really it all comes down to being lazy (and I'm sorry, but there's nothing better than half and half in iced coffee - I am never going back). Well, it's a lot more complicated than laziness, maybe I should cite the reasons.
OK, so first it was this guy... We started seeing each other pretty much every day almost immediately (sometimes it just happens like that, despite all my better judgment...more of that to come, sadly). After a lifetime of running track, he was ready to kick back, watch movies, eat pizza and get fat. And, you know, understandably. I tried for a while to encourage him to go to the gym - mostly so that I could get my ass there and not be tempted by the distractions of infatuation. But - and this brings me to a whole other rant-tangent along which I will not proceed for the moment, but which needs to be gotten into at some point - he wasn't into it. He wanted to sit around. And I ended up doing a lot of sitting around with him.
When I was deciding to apply to the Marine Corps - the results of that process are another wonderfully long tangent that I will also get into at another time, but, needless to say, helped get me to this point right now - I was working out really intensely. I was getting up at 6 every day [yes, in answer to your unstated question, the boy was not in my bed every night at this point] and doing 3 day-cycle super sets (dude, it's the best: back & biceps, legs, chest & tris, one day off a week..anyway) in the weight area that, at this time, was occupying the sw corner of the Wildermuth auditorium. Some time between 3 - 6pm I was running 3 or more miles. But eventually, as the thesis loomed larger and the days got shorter, I wasn't really running. But I was building a truckload of muscle. Seriously, it was impressive.
Then the magnitude of completing my thesis hit me in the face like a freight train because, you know, I procrastinated like a motherfucker.
And I spent the next 8 weeks or so in the library for like, 16-20 hour days. Eating kind of whatever and whenever, and looking at the gym, and walking by the gym, and just not being able to take the additional demands of discipline that would get me in there to just DO something. Ugh. My brain's fat sometimes, too.
So, that and the post-graduation month of self indulgence later, and I feel gross. But I am kind of fat - for me; this is not a normative judgment of other people's bodies - and I think I look FANTASTIC! My boobs and butt and thighs are huge, and I look overripe and delicious.
But I am missing my very active lifestyle. But I just want to move around a lot, like I did when I was riding my bike around new york everywhere. The gym is great for its sweaty, focused, grungy awesomeness (well, it's gotta be the right kind of gym obviously - no chichi shit) and I love my muscles. It's really kind of Wonder Woman...
Riding around, or walking around, or playing games, however, is mentally and physically stimulating in a different kind of way. Play is just different.
And I want to start doing triathlons. Which is a whole different caliber of "doing something". I'm talking superhero shit. Where you can run and jump and climb and live physically present. Word.
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