I’m a huge fan of snow. The kind of snow that stops people, that blankets the world in silence, that requires staying home and staying in and not being given a choice. It doesn’t take much for me to determine that the snow falling is JUST THAT SERIOUS. So, today’s seven to ten on top of the weekend’s eight, yes, I am staying in and baking cookies and roasting a chicken and maybe – JUST MAYBE – a little wine later? … but first …
Did anyone watch the second night of “Bonnie & Clyde”? I mean, I expressed my abashed and appalled distaste for Part 1’s misogynistic leanings last night (CLICK HERE), but then I watched Part 2 last night and – somehow – it got even more ridiculously sexist. Honestly – DID NO ONE EVER QUESTION THIS APPROACH? I suppose it is something of a spoiler but NO ONE SHOULD WASTE FOUR HOURS OF THEIR LIVES WATCHING THIS ANTI-WOMAN INDOCTRINATION PIECE OF SHIT – so, here goes. We all know they die in – as they say – a hail of gun fire – but in THIS VERSION, Clyde, heartbroken and destroyed by Bonnie’s bloodthirsty, fame-hungry nature, DELIBERATELY delivers himself and Bonnie to the set-up assassination scene. He KNOWS they are being set-up and he GOES THERE because Bonnie is so eager to continue “crime-ing” (what the fuck is crime-ing, by the way?) and gaining fame that he realizes they must die so she won’t continue forcing him to kill people. SHE HAS SHOT A FATHER OF TWO THROUGH THE FACE ON CHRISTMAS NIGHT FOR NO REASON AT ALL – which, you see, horrifies all the rest of the outlaws with whom she runs – including Clyde – and then, his brother, Buck, dies because Bonnie is SO INTENT on stalling at a shoot-out scene long enough to get her little hope-chest-box thing full of newpaper clippings and mementoes and then extols to Clyde the virtues of Buck having died famous instead of living sixty years without any sort of notoriety. Clyde decides right then: “I knew then,” he says in idiotic voice-over, “what I had to do.”
RIDICULOUS. Okay, I feel better. No. I don’t. We MUST begin finding remedy for this sexist/rape culture in which we live. Look at this article from Salon about how some are STILL trying to defend male supremacy cultural sexual harassment – it is fucking outrageous. “SEXUALLY HARASSING WOMEN IS A FUN ACTIVITY JUST LIKE SKIING” (CLICK HERE)
I’m a fun person – really I am. Evidence, the way and degree to which I love this NAKED CONDOM commercial. “Hey, the toothpaste is on sale!” “COME AGAIN!” Watch:
And, I LOVE sex and think EVERYONE should have it all the time – in fact, I am one with John Waters who combines a love of books and sex and believes that the giving of books as gifts should be rewarded with sex. Listen:
“I always give books. And I always ask for books. I think you should reward people sexually for getting you books. Don’t send a thank-you note, repay them with sexual activity. If the book is rare or by your favorite author or one you didn’t know about, reward them with the most perverted sex act you can think of. Otherwise, you can just make out.“(READ THE WHOLE NEW YORK TIMES PIECE BY CLICKING HERE)
If I had gotten “reward sex” for all the books I have given, my genitals would long ago have fallen off from over-use. Alas, I never though of such a thing.
Speaking of genitals and falling off; my imaginary boyfriend (well, one of many) STANLEY TUCCI is starring in a new film written and directed by Neil LaBute who can be counted on to think of things emotional and cultural in ways the rest of us have probably not. His work often offends, shocks, and shakes up – and always makes me think and reconsider things I have thunk before. So, I am eager to see “Some Velvet Morning” and not just because I am hoping for a glimpse of Tucci naked. Although, I am. Click here for an article and trailer on BUZZFEED.
See, I’m not prudish. And LaBute OFTEN has been accused of misogyny, and I wonder what this film might say about that? It clearly deals with sex and love and where in our culture such things fit and their definitions. I am working on a number of projects trying to deal with those things and the nauseating, poisonous damage LABEL-ing does to all of us every day and the ways in which it limits our thinking.
Speaking of thinking and labels: I’ve been playing with the notion of masks and costumes we wear to FIT the labels with which we are monikered, and the ways in which we strip away parts of ourselves (or hide) to please others or fit in – and I found this painting by Amy Judd which seems to speak to that and women’s sexuality all at once – Look how beautiful! CLICK HERE FOR HER WEBSITE!
Okay, well, I’ve eaten some cold pizza (left over from last night’s “well it’s going to snow and calories don’t count on snowdays” dinner) and now it is time to make cookies – chocolate chip and also white-chocolate-macadamia and maybe, if I have the energy – snickerdoodles. Then, time to roast the chicken all wrapped in bacon and saute the Brussels sprouts (with bacon, LOL) and … if we do have the winter they are predicting I will end up weighing twenty pounds more than I do now (which is already twenty pounds more than I should dammit – but wait – that’s one of those labels, right?)
Love and Light, friends. Be Better.