Monday, June 30, 2014

Skid Row Diary 29























27  September   2003   Saturday  Day 77


   I got up around 5:00 and showered. I watched last night’s “Charlie Rose Program,” while exercising. Jeffrey Immelt, the CEO of General Electric and personification of Satan on Earth was the hour’s guest. I knew how to run a multi-billion dollar, multi-national company after it was over. 
   I was saddened to learn from Charley downstairs that George Plimpton had passed away yesterday. A co-founder of The Paris Review, occasional actor, and a journalist who researched his stories by getting personally involved, such as quaterbacking a Detroit Lions football game, performing in a comedy at act at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas, and playing with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, among other incidents. 
   The Palestinian American literary theorist, Edward Said also died a few days ago.
   This year is nothing but a death watch. I imagine this is one way to measure how old your are getting, by noting how many people you know die.
   At 6:15 I left the building and walked north to Boyle St and sat down outside Ron McCree’s apartment building. An overcast, grey morning, the street was littered with trash, and black and Hispanic homeless people, some drinking beer, some urinating, some just standing around waiting for what would happen next. 
   A young Hispanic gentleman with the proclivity of talking to himself, rode up to me on a bicycle, set it down next to me, and ran off down the street, around the corner towards 3rd St.
   Ron McCree oozed out of his building and looked around. He scanned up and down the street several times before noticing I was sitting directly in front of him.
   “I’ll be down in just a minute, man,” he said. “I just wanted to see if you were here.” 
   He went back inside.
   The young Hispanic guy came back and retrieved his bike without tipping me for looking after it.
   Ron came back and we began our walk and talk. 
   We walked within a rectangle described by San Julian St. on the west, 4th St to the north, Stanford Ave on the east, and 7th St on the south. The talk varied from self disclosure to predictions of our personal futures. I found out that Ron had been shot in the ass in Vietnam (and then signed on for a 2nd tour of duty... ”I was having fun, man!”), and was receiving a VA pension as a result. I hadn’t known he had even been in Nam. I learned that he had a daughter in North Hollywood. I learned that his internship at the Service Spot was precarious, and that he may or may not be getting paid on a regular basis. I also learned that he’s still drinking, as we stopped at Jack’s Market where he purchased a Magnum Malt Liquor for breakfast. 
   He asked if I minded.
   “I don’t care,” I told him.
   “I didn’t ask if you cared. I asked if you minded.”
   “I don’t care. I don’t mind. What? You think I’m gonna relapse because you’re drinking a beer. Are you crazy? It would take at least two beers for me to do that.”
   He laughed.
   “That’s the first laugh I’ve had today,” he said. “Thanks.”
   We continued our stroll. 
   He told me how Skid Row was divided into districts, as far as the procurement of drugs was concerned. Marijuana was sold and used in front of the L.A. Mission on 5th and Wall, heroin on San Julian, between 6th and 7th, and crack cocaine everywhere else.
   Ron makes these Saturday morning walks supposedly to keep in touch with the street scene, to see who’s dies, in jail, sick, and okay. All I saw him do was to try and pick up cute homeless chicks. 
   One white girl in her 20s was sitting on the sidewalk outside of the Volunteers Of America (VOA) on Crocker, as Ron and I approached. Ron immediately jumped headfirst into her business, asking her what she was doing, where she was staying, where she was going, etc., etc, etc. Surprisingly the girl answered him, and was very nice. Her name was Nina, and had been here in L.A. for six months, out of Wisconsin. Her boyfriend had just been arrested and she was staying in the 38th St. shelter, and was trying to get on GR. At one point she mentioned that she needed a pen to write something down, and I gave her one of my emergency pens from my utility belt and told her to keep it.
   McCree gave her his phone number, “just in case,” she needed it. Wasn’t that nice of him? She wrote it down.
   He tried to do the same to a pretty black girl named Karen who was waiting for a check cashing store to open on 7th, near Stanford. Ron kept trying to give her his number, “just in case,” and she kept politely refusing.
   Just up the street on Gladys, Ron showed me where the Hippie Kitchen was. I’d heard of it for the last year and a half, but had never seen it. As it turned out it was right across the street from Gladys Park where the elite homeless hang out during the day, and where the Drifters Meeting is held each night. The Hippie Kitchen provides meals three days a week, with Saturday being one of those days. But it didn’t begin doing that until 9:30, and Ron and I didn’t stick around.
   No one will ever starve in Skid Row.
   Besides the Hippie Kitchen, there are several missions nearby, like the Midnight Mission, and Union Rescue, that provide daily meals, a Senior and Woman’s Center, and good folks, or church groups often come down and hand out food to those who happen to be around when they’re there. Everything from complete meals, to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and whatever’s in between.
   We continued north toward 5th St (The Nickel) discussing the projected consequences of the imminent strike by the homeless, when Ron turned into one of the many seafood companies that encompass the Skid Row area. 
   Apparently this particular company sold to the public in an open market each day until 11:00, and Ron bought ten bucks worth of lobster and squid. Good on the lobster, yuck on the squid.
   Back at old Jack’s Market, he bought two more beers to take home with him, and we said our goodbyes.
   I invited him to the movies, but he said he couldn’t make it today. Another time perhaps.
   I walked back to the Weingart’s dining room and ate breakfast. Pancakes. Then returned to 5th St to catch a bus downtown. Just as the bus arrived I notice an LAPD black and while (police car) pull up to Jack’s Market across the street. Two officers jumped out with their guns drawn, and ordered a black guy to stand up against the side of the building. 
   I went to the movies. 
 And arrived at City Walk just after 10:00. 
   It seems that very same multi-national company, General Electric has just agreed to purchase this facility, along with Universal Studios down the hill, and it’s cable and music business. Joined with NBC, I think it’s a good match, if you don’t mind huge media conglomerates.
   “The Rundown” didn’t start until 1:00, so I kicked back and watched music videos. I enjoyed Elvis Costello’s “45,” and fell in love with Annette Strean of Venus Hum, who sang “Soul Sloshing,” from their album “Big Beautiful Sky.”   
   I may not be able to get over her. She’s much too cute.
   Good singer too.
   And really cute... for a girl.
   “Soul Sloshing” would play itself in my head for the rest of the day, replacing Elton John’s “Little Genie,” which I don’t even like that much.
   I didn’t like “The Rundown” that much either, or at least not as much as Ebert and Roper did, but I liked it a little. I thought Dwayne “The Rock" Johnson was great as the Syndicate’s “retrival specialist,” with a dream to become a restaurateur, and the lovely and talented Rosario Dawson as a  Brazilian rebel (who knew there were such things as Brazilian rebels... I certainly didn’t). 
   I’d rebel with her in Brazil given half a chance. 
   That dancing fool Christopher Walken has made a career out of playing edgy, idiosyncratic, possibly surreal characters, and he continued to do so in this film.
   Needed just a smidgeon more action though.
   While attempting to exit the theater complex a searing wind blew me upstairs into the #17 auditorium, where “Woody Allen’s “Anything Else,” just happened to be playing, starring the lovely actress (she’s very talented too), Christina Ricci (little Wednesday!) and Jason Biggs, the actor who has intimate relationships with apple pies. Another trip into Woody’s world, which usually concerns upper-middle class New Yorkers, who never seem to work, have no money problems, and are looking for love. I’ve got no problem with that. Somebody’s got to do it, and one of the things I most liked about this film was the shots of the city. As a matter of fact I now am afflicted with an uncontrollable urge to go to New York and run around Central Park at three o’clock in the morning.  
   Two jokes I have to relate. Christina Ricci,  congratulating her boyfriend (Biggs) new job as a a television writer in California: “That’s great. All the idiots who can’t make it in New York go to California and write for television.”
   Woody’s not making a lot of friends in L.A. I’m guessing.
   And Jason talking in Central Park about sex with his new friend, David Dobel (Woody):
   Jason: “I don’t like masturbation. I’t not like the real thing.”
   Woody: “Oh I don’t know about that. Let me tell you, just last night I constructed this fantasy with Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren, and to the best of my knowledge that’s the first time those two wonderful actress ever appeared together.”  
   I also accidently stepped into the last 20 minutes of “Under the Tuscan Sun,” starring the beautiful and talented Diane Lane.
   Now I know what you’re thinking. What is an exceptionally handsome, virile, sexy, man’s man, doing going into the biggest chick flick of the year? My answer... because the beautiful and talented Diane Lane starred in it. Enough said. 
   The cinematography was very nice too.
   I returned downtown, to the Weingart, singing and dancing to “Soul Sloshing.”
   I watched “Zorba the Greek,” on PBS, starring Anthony Quinn, in one of his most famous roles. 
   Scene: Men running out of a mine just before it collapses. One man pulls back, into the dust ridden entrance: “Zorba! 
   Quinn walks out, looks around... “What?”
   Did you know that Anthony Quinn was Mexican? I didn’t. His dad rode with Pancho Villa, which was the nickname of José Doroteo Arango Arámbula, a famous Mexican revolutionary. After that they moved to East Los Angeles (not far from the Weingart), which must have been a little anticlimactic for them.
   When I went to sleep I had a dream with Andrea Parducci, the lovely and talented star of “Once Upon a Madonna,” “Tales from the Chateau,” and many other fine films, Marilyn Monroe, and Sophia Loren, which as far as I know is the second time the later wonderful actress ever appeared together, and the first for all three.
   I won’t go into the details, but it involved a trampoline.


28  September   Sunday   Day 78


   I woke late, at 10:00 or so, showered, then went downtown to buy a paper. I also picked up the latest issue of Maxim Magazine, with the lovely and talented Gina Gershon, featured on the cover.
   I’ve heard some critics pan Maxim, and it’s imitators, describing it as pablum for young males, and a destroyer of minds. I say, hell no, that’s what T.V. is for. I find the magazine witty, entertaining, and informative. Why in this issue alone I learned who Antarctica belonged to, how to conduct a stakeout and follow people with their knowing it, how to throw a boomerang, spot fake twenty dollar bills, and how to create an artificial womb. I even found some funny jokes, like, a giraffe walks into a bar and says, “High balls on me.”
   Upon returning to my room I exercised and meditated  before fixing some nice eggs and sausage in the day rooms microwave. I also got 4 laundry tokens from Frank Valdez, the weekend case manager. Now I have 11. I could do laundry all day if I so desired.
   While reading the paper I had recently purchased I listened to The Prairie Home Companion on the radio, sponsored by The Ketchup Advisory Board, which provides instruction in the use of ketchup, which at times can be fairly tricky.
   The radio also told me that Elia Kazan, the famous film director had died, and  yesterday the actor Donald O'Connor (who was another actor I actually saw perform at Universal Studios. I was on an active sound stage for some reason, and he was guest appearing on some television show, and having a little trouble remembering his lines as I recall). He used to talk to mules.
   With all of these people dying all over the place I really think I’ll be lucky to make it to December, due to sympathy death.
   At 7:30 I watched and taped the Farrelly brothers, “There’s Something About Mary,” starring the lovely and talented Cameron Diaz, who is both talented and lovely all at the same time. I had forgotten how funny it was, their best effort to date.
   And at 11:00 I watched the “Fast Food Brain-Eater,” episode of “The X-Files,” which was really, well, bad. I taped it, but will record over it tomorrow with “The Man with One Red Shoe.”
   Christina Applelay, the beautiful and talented star of “Creasemaster,” and “Savannah R.N.,” and other fine films, and Cameron Diaz came to me in my dreams tonight.
   We were in Nepal, climbing up a steep, snow-ridden, trail on Mount Everest, on our way to a Buddhist monastery. Both of the girls were shivering mightily, as they were not dressed properly for the climate, wearing matching green string bikinis with purple stars embossed upon them. Taking pity upon the foolish ladies, I let them huddle against me to keep warm.


29  September   Monday   day 79


   I wrote until it was time for lunch (barbecued chicken), then walked up to the VA clinic for the 1:00 ASAP meeting.
   Bud Wilson, from the veteran’s benefit office sat in on the group to answer questions we might have concerning benefits we might have been eligible for. That took about three quarters of the hour, and in the last fifteen minutes Kathy explained how having our urine tested once or twice a week was an important feedback tool. 
   Lord knows I realize the importance of testing as a tool to measure progress, but I despite it’s value as a tool for patient feedback. I suspect that the ASAP clients know pretty much if they’re dirty or not. 
   Afterwards, I caught a Dash to 8th and Spring, and walked to the One Stop Center, and there faxed my resume to three places. All the computers were busy, so I went to the library to check my E-mail. There, I also learned everything I could about the electronic pop music group from Nashville, Tennessee, Venus Hum, and my new love, Annette Strean.
   I don’t usually do this, but if you click on this, you can see and hear Annette and “Soul Sloshing” too!
   She looks so sweet, and I’m almost positive that she is as pure as the driven snow. Innocent too. And she’s a very powerful singer.
   Don’t worry, Sophie B Hawkins, I still love you best. Jennifer, Odalys, Giselle don’t be jealous. There’s room in my heart for all.
    I returned to the Weingart and attempted to meet with my lovely case worker, as I was overdo for a session. Labren refused to see me, however, claiming her computer was down. Apparently the ability to take notes and enter them at a later time was beyond her. I was unreasonably upset as this always seems to happen with her. Whenever I do get to see her she acts like she’s doing me a big favor. Hell, it’s the Weingart’s policy’s that I see her on a regular basis, not mine. I already know how I’m doing.
   I didn’t voice my displeasure though. That would have been counter productive.
   Later, I tried to tape one of my favorite comedies, “The Man with One Red Shoe,” starring Lori Singer. When I think about films that I cherish this always comes to mind. Based on a  French film, “Le Grand Blond avec une chaussure noire,” or for those of you readers who do not speak or read French, “The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe,” and is smart, funny, irreverent, well acted, produced, and directed. It also has a wonderful musical score. It boasts some memorable lines, like, “This man has been badly beaned,” and scenes, little Tommy Noonan is mistaken by the enemy to be the target they are looking for and has all of his teeth removed in a dentist’s office as a result. The film is even somewhat relevant as a statement of the absurdity and lengths modern intelligence agencies will go to to prove doubtful positions (like why we invaded Iraq). 
   You can’t get much of a better cast. This guy named Tom Hanks looks elfishly young playing the straight man to all of the crazy antics happening all around him. Dabney Coleman is simply great in everything he appear’s in... “How will I know which tooth the microfilm is in?” he is asked. “Oh yeah,” he ponders briefly. “Better yank em all out.” Lori, “Left foot... one... red... shoe.” Jim Belushi, Tommy, Charles Durning, Carrie Fisher, Edward Herrmann, Squiggy from “Laverne & Shirley.”
   Here’s something I didn’t know until I checked it out. Hanks’character in the film is a concert violinist. Lori Singer is an actual concert cellist, and made her debut as soloist at age thirteen with the Oregon Symphony.
   “The Man with One Red Shoe,” bombed at the box office, but so did “ Citizen Kane” when it debuted in 1941 (it didn’t make it’s production costs back at least).
   I said I tried to tape it, but was unable to. Midway during the broadcast, I played back part of the tape only to discover that it was not taping smoothly, but starting and stopping in a jerking fashion, making the sound  impossible to hear. I experimented with the VCR for a while and came to the conclusion that the combination of the cheap tapes I use and the cheap VCR I have, has doomed my recording efforts. I also realized much later that I probably could have kept recording and played it back on a different machine, and it might have worked just fine.
   So I was a tad disappointed. The next VCR I buy will not be purchased from around here.
   After the movie was over I read for a while before going to sleep. 
   I dreamt I was in a small mid-west town dancing to an upbeat Kenny Loggins’ song with Lori Singer, Kevin Bacon, John Lithgow, and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
   Like Christopher Walken, we were dancing fools.


30  September    Tuesday   Day 80


   I got up reasonably early and went to breakfast, French toast, then left for Trimar. 
   At the 99 Cent Store in Van Nuys I picked up 2 jars of instant coffee, 2 cans of meatballs in tomato sauce, Colby cheese, jalapeno peppers, mustard of course, ham and turkey luncheon meat, smoked sausages, butter, grated Parmesan cheese, and 3 Three Musketeers Bars.
   At Trimer, they were watching Jerry Springer again, so I continued reading from “Floating Dragon,” finishing it late that night. I don’t think I finished reading it the first time around as I had no memory of the convoluted ending at all. Peter Straub is a great writer, but I personally don’t care for the endings of many of his books... which is a significant problem. This one, “Ghost Story,” two books that are roughly similar (a group of people pulling together to battle with a supernatural enemy from the past. In “Floating Dragon,” the final confrontation between the four principle characters and the dragon takes place after everyone else is pretty much dead and done with. One would think that these folks would have mustered up the gumption to fight back a bit earlier than that, especially after one’s husband had been killed, one’s father, and another’s wife and unborn child. And don’t tell me they didn’t know who the dragon was, as in the end it didn’t take a whole lot to figure it out.
   And the final vanquishing was done with the help of some “magic sword” that popped out of nowhere when one’s thoughts were clear or you sang a song.
   Seriously?
   As in “Ghost Story,” after all of the deaths, destruction, and mayhem, the overzealous antagonist seemed pitifully weak and easy to dispatch.
   In Struab’s book “Mystery,” the ending was very satisfying, and I’m looking forward to reading “The Hellfire Club, which I got from the library, because... well who doesn’t like clubs. 
   The first finger prick sample was too fatty, and I had to drink some lemon juice and wait a half hour in order to try again. Popcorn. Butter on the French toast. Bucket O’ Lard. I’ve been eating too much fat. I weighed in at 188.
   The second test came back okay, and I was able to donate. My friend Aurica was off today, so I had no one to talk to except the mad Dutch woman, Mama Nell, who complained to me about having to adjust my needle.
   I just love having my needle adjusted.
   After finishing I purchased a Super Lotto ticket, then made my way back downtown.
   I had received my new bus pass card in the mail yesterday, so I bought October’s sticker from the MTA customer service office at Arco Plaza, before returning to the Weingart.
   Swedish meatballs for dinner. They looked like regular meatballs to me.
   I spent the evening writing and watching television, very different from other evenings. I’ve been taping Jackie Guerrido’s weather forecast on “Primer Impacto," at 5:30 each day. Knowing the weather is very important.
    I watched the second to last episode of “8 Simple Rules,” that John Ritter appeared in. The last will be aired next week.
   And I watched the season premier of “Good Morning Miami,” starring Constance Zimmer. The producers seem to have discarded Suzanne  Pleshette’s character, substituting her with Ttiffani Amber Thiessen. This is an outrage! I have nothing against Tiffani, but to push off the beautiful and talented veteran actress and comedian is not only insulting, it’s down right rude. I for one, will never watch this program again.
   After finishing “Floating Dragon,” I went to sleep and dreamt I was dancing in Miami, right on the street, with the lovely and talented Constance Zimmer, Madison Stone, star of “Harley Girls,” and “Evil Toons,” and who is also very lovely and talented, and Suzanne Pleshette, to the song “Footloose.” All joined in. Pretty soon everybody in Miami was dancing. 
   It was just wonderful.


1  October   Wednesday   Day 81


   “Zen is easy. It is only selfishness which is problematic and painful.” -Shen T’ Sing

   After exercise, meditation, and shower, I cleaned my lonely room, and made a nice breakfast, scrambled eggs,  jalapenos, and smoky cheddar and Swiss cheese. 
   It was wonderful too. 
   I used the day room’s computer to write a letter to Monzano. Hopefully I’ll be able to print it tomorrow at the One Stop.
   I met Oscar, an old acquaintance of mine from Harbor Light, at the 1:00 ASAP meeting. A nice black gentleman who at one time was a professional rock and roll harmonica player. We used to perform together at the karaoke meeting on Wednesday nights in the so-called church across the street from the Weingart, performing Led Zeppelin songs mostly (he’d play the harp and I’d sing. I’m a very good singer). Oscar is now putting a demo together to submit to a record company.
   He told me of another Harbor Light alumni, a guy named Boon, who had just gone through 37 thousand bucks on crack cocaine.
   I don’t no where he got that money, but he sure must have had a good time while it lasted.
   On second thought, he probably didn’t.
   I checked in at the SRHT office after the meeting, then checked my mail. While filling out my CA7 form at the post office, a young and pretty Hispanic girl bought some stamps from the stamp machine that they have there for the purpose of buying stamps, which happened to be right next to where I was standing. She must have paid with a $20 bill, as she seemed surprised upon receiving fifteen $1 coins as change.
   “Yeah,” I said to her. “That sucks doesn’t it?”
   “This is how you get change back,” she asked me.
   “Umm Huumm. I put’em in a piggy bank.” Which is true. I do put them in a piggy bank.
   “Well I guess I’ll do that too. I have a new baby...”
   “Oh, congratulations!” I said in an appropriately congratulatory manner.
   “Thank you.”
   “Take care now.” I left.
   This would be the highlight of my day. Some small, precious contact with a normal, responsible person, who mistook me for one as well.
   I wrote after returning to my lonely room. Dinner consisted of about a half can of chile mac, of which I augmented with a smoked sausage sandwich upstairs.
   At 7:00 I watched Charlie Rose while reading about closing criminal records in California, and ice flows on Mars. The foreign minister of Egypt was on tonight, so naturally Steve Martin, the actor and banjo player, was the second guest. 
   Well anytime you get these two together you know all hell is going to break loose (sort of like Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren), and tonight was not an exception.
   I watched “The West Wing,” again, and this week’s show was 100% better than last week’s, helped out by the appearance of two of my dream girls, Annabeth Gish (formerly of the “X-Files”), and the magnificent Mary Louise Parker.
   Then I watched a new show, the series premier actually (I knew this because the words “Series Premier” appeared at the bottom left hand corner of the television screen for an intolerably long time, as if ABC didn’t trust me to figure this out myself, or that it even mattered. And while we’re on the subject, what’s up with all of the network’s sneaky little intrusions on the movies and television shows I’m watching with these annoying advertisements at the bottom of our screens! It’s not enough that we have to put up with endless commercials? It makes me just want to scream! But I get overly excited. And yet, if this is what unrestricted capitalism has wrought, then I long for a turn to Marxism-Leninism... it’s come to that, I’m afraid), of “Karen Sisco.”  Produced by Danny DeVito, I only watched because I’m secretly in love with the series’ star, the beautiful and talented, Carla Gugino, who until now has been working in feature films. 
   I first became aware of Carla around August 29th of 1971, when I was about 15 years old and I sensed her presence in the world. I became aware of her work, and finally got to see her, in Brian De Palma’s 1998 thriller, “Snake Eyes,” which also starred that acting fool, Nicolas Cage. 
   Now I’m not one to drop names, oh heaven’s no, but I first learned of this show from it’s creator, Elmore (Elmore) Leonard himself, whose book, “Out of Sight,” the show is based on. I saw him being interviewed at the UCLA book fair, months and months ago. A movie was also made from that book, starring Jennifer Lopez and George Clooney (who I have a tremendous amount of respect for, due in part because of his attitude toward the roles he chooses, and his television production of “Fail Safe”), with Jennifer playing the Sisco character, that Carla has now taken over, and for my money, is better suited for. The premier show was basically a repeat of the film and book. Karen gets involved with a bank robber, the difference being at the end she doesn’t let him get away... she shoots him.
   That a way Carla!
   I read from Straub’s “The Hellfire Club,” before going to sleep and dreaming I was in a prise fight in Vegas with Carla Gugino as my opponent. 
   She was dressed inappropriately for the occasion, in a short white skirt and blouse, the same clothes she wore in “Snake Eyes,” frankly, donning a blonde wig and glasses.
   I’m afraid my concentration was a bit off. She beat the holy crap out me, then to add insult to injury, she shot me in the foot.
   I hurt real bad.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Women and Men (Or, What the Hell’s the Matter with Men?) Part 2: The Difference






















“Buddhists are taught to show the same tolerance, forbearance, and brotherly love to all men [and women], without distinction; and an unswerving kindness. towards the members of the animal kingdom.” -[Amended] First Proposition of Buddhist Belief

“Sometimes you have to show a little skin. This reminds boys of being naked, and then they think of sex.” -Cher Horowitz, From “Clueless” 1995


Picture Legend

1. Cameron Diaz at the Academy Awards
2. Beautiful and diverse ladies vs penguins
3. The ruminations of Cher Horowitz
4. Montana Wildhack
5. Diane Kruger as Helen of Troy
6. Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra
7. The Befuddling Giselle Blondet
8. Jenny
9. Pretty Ann Margret
10. Lovely Erin
11. Young Brooklyn Decker (without personal power)
12. Close up
13. Old Brooklyn Decker (with a great deal of personal power)
14. Jeremy Meeks
15. Beauty and the Beast
16, Steven Pinker
17. Stop
18. Customer Rep Amy
19. Amy Paffrath
20. Irin Carmon


   Have you ever watched what they call the Red Carpet arrivals at the Academy Awards? I have.
   Some television networks and news programs make a big deal out of the various actors and actress, and those who are connected with the films being nominated in any given year, like directors, producers, writers, sound and visual people, and everyone else who help to make the motion pictures possible.
   Some shows dedicate, and place great emphasis on, what the ladies are wearing, with little, or no attention made to the men. 
   Is that fair, and why is that important to so many?
   Beats me. I’m watching to see who and what films will win the awards, and wouldn’t be watching the Red Carpet arrivals at all if it were not for the fact that the only other programs that are offered at the time on my basic cable T.V. schedule are “Swamp People,” “Duck Dynasty,” “Pawn Stars,” and the 187th broadcast of “Ironman,” on FX.
   As to whether the extra scrutiny applied to women and their apparel is fair or not, well, obviously, no it’s not. Women are held to a different standard than men, who as you can see from the 2nd picture above, are dressed more or less the same, looking much like a waddle of penguins in Antarctica trying to keep warm.
   As I just stated women are held to a different standard than men, they are judged by the individual choices they make in what they decide to wear, not only at these award ceremonies, but everywhere else.    Why?
   It seems that a huge emphasis is placed upon a woman or girl’s appearance, much more so than men. Men aren’t off the hook by any means, they’re judged by society for other traits, but not their appearance, to a degree.
   “So okay, I don't want to be a traitor to my generation and all but I don't get how guys dress today. I mean, come on, it looks like they just fell out of bed and put on some baggy pants and take their greasy hair - ew - and cover it up with a backwards cap and like, we're expected to swoon? I don't think so.”  - Cher Horowitz. 
   So it goes with out saying that women and men are decidedly different, both physically and mentally, with different, but similar goals in life. Let’s examine.      
   On a personal note, I love women. That’s why I gave them top billing. I’m not placing them on a pedestal, because I’ve had some experience with them and know how difficult they can be at times...
   Liz: “...You need to get laid, Bethany Sloane. You need a man, if only for ten minutes."
   Bethany: “It's been my experience that the average male is never a man. Not even for ten minutes in his entire lifespan."
   Liz: “That's a bit militant. You thinking of joining the other side?"
   Bethany: “Couldn't do it. Women are insane.” -Conversation between Bethany Sloane and Liz, from “Dogma,” 1999
    ...but on average I don’t mind that.. What do I like about women? Good question. I admire the difference, their natural beauty... to other humans (I’ve heard at least one woman exclaim, “The female body is one of the most beautiful things in the universe,” a statement that is both presumptuous and absurd. I sincerely doubt that a duck billed platypus, or a pink fairy armadillo, satanic leaf-tailed gecko, or the inter-dimensional beings from the planet Tralfamadore where the flying saucers come from, hold that opinion (although the Tralfamadorians did like Valerie Perrine)), their physicality, their intelligence and common sense, their point of view, and most of all their companionship, and the way they make me feel when I’m with them. 
   Women and girls are considered the fair sex. What does that mean? Google was nice enough to give me the noun, archaic definition of the word (thank you Google), which is: A beautiful woman. What does beautiful mean? Google tells us: Adjective, Pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically. Wikipedia tells us: “Aesthetics (also spelled æsthetics and esthetics) is a branch of philosophy dealing with the nature of art, beauty, and taste, with the creation and appreciation of beauty. It is more scientifically defined as the study of sensory or sensori-emotional values, sometimes called judgments of sentiment and taste.” On and on.
   Other definitions and synonyms for beauty include: 1. Noun, a combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight. A combination of qualities that pleases the intellect or moral sense. Synonyms: attractiveness, prettiness, good looks, comeliness, allure, :  loveliness, charm, appeal, eye-appeal, heavenliness; winsomeness, grace, elegance, exquisiteness; splendor, magnificence, grandeur, impressiveness, decorativeness; gorgeousness, glamour; literary beauteousness, pulchritude. 2. A beautiful or pleasing thing or person, in particular. A beautiful woman. Synonyms: beautiful woman, belle, vision, Venus, goddess, beauty queen, picture,  informal babe, hottie, looker, good looker, beaut, siren, doll, arm candy, lovely, stunner, knockout, bombshell, dish, peach, eyeful, fox.
   Well, there doesn’t seem to be a lack of enthusiasm for defining this concept, or making the definitions themselves. 
   Women throughout history have been prized for this quality, of being beautiful (or pretty, cute, attractive... whatever). Helen of Troy, in Greek myths was considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world (I guess it doesn’t hurt to be the daughter of Zeus). "Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, / And burnt the topless towers of Ilium." -From “Doctor Faustus” by Christopher Marlowe.
   But this title has often been given to other women throughout the years, Cleopatra, ("For she was a woman of surpassing beauty, and at that time, when she was in the prime of her youth, she was most striking; she also possessed a most charming voice and a knowledge of how to make herself agreeable to every one. Being brilliant to look upon and to listen to, with the power to subjugate every one, even a love-sated man already past his prime, she thought that it would be in keeping with her rôle to meet Caesar, and she reposed in her beauty all her claims to the throne. She asked therefore for admission to his presence, and on obtaining permission adorned and beautified herself so as to appear before him in the most majestic and at the same time pity-inspiring guise. When she had perfected her schemes she entered the city (for she had been living outside of it), and by night without Ptolemy's knowledge went into the palace." -Dio, Roman History (XLII.34.4-6)), Marie Antoinette, Soong Ching Ling, Mata Hari, Princess Diana, Elizabeth Taylor, Giselle Blondet, Jennifer Connelly, on and on. The designation really doesn’t mean very much as it’s completely subjective. Many will consider their mothers as the most beautiful woman in the world, and they would be right, as far as it goes.
   Still beauty, or allure, attractiveness or appearance is highly important in society’s value of females, and makes up a great deal of women’s, or girls sense of worth and self-esteem.
   And it’s not only society, or men, who value beauty as such, but woman as well rate each other on attractiveness. Once I showed a picture of the lovely actress Ann Margret, to my lovely ex-case manager, Erin, who looked at it and said,”Oh, she’s very pretty.”
   See! I’m not making this stuff up folks.
   And indeed beauty is a valuable commodity, especially in a capitalist society. 
   Business’s, like advertising agencies on Madison Avenue, often use woman’s attractiveness to enhance advertising campaigns, if not out right depictions of sexual situations, to sell things. Sex sells, they say.
   Most ladies in the media, or cable news, or in the movies, or T.V., are exceptionally attractive. For every Melissa McCarthy there are 50 actresses nearly as pretty as Jennifer Connelly (the two are the same age), and I have nothing at all against Melissa. She’s a very talented and lovely lady.     
   There’s even an entire profession whose only job requirement is that men and women look good (although quite often unnaturally so). It’s called being a model. Heidi Klum, Brooklyn Decker, Christie Brinkley, Tom Selleck, all made just oodles of money and got nice rich husbands just for looking good... except Tom... he got an avocado farm.
   And Heidi Klum, Brooklyn Decker, Christie Brinkley (forget about Tom for a moment) are actually no more beautiful or lovely than literally millions of women on this planet. I see women on the streets here in downtown Los Angeles who look as good as these ladies everyday. 
   There’s one right now! Hey lady!
   I guess these girls just had the right agents, or something, and were very lucky, and didn’t have Tyra Banks on their ass. 
   How do women aquire what we call beauty. Well either God just gave it to them, or natural selection dictated that women and men with the strongest physical characteristics, the most sexually attractive, or who possess the best survival attributes, breed more and leave more offspring, thus refining the female form into what we find today (throughout history actually). Females expecially, who are more sexually attractive are more successful at having more children to whom the mother passes down desired attributes, who pass those attributes to their own children, and on and on. That’s how evolution works (in part).
   Either way, it doesn’t matter to me.
   Speaking of Brooklyn Decker, who’ve I’ve found to be an amazing actress, has illustrated the often shallow importance of female appearance in a current add for the BMW3, which is some type of car, here.  
   In this commercial some yoyo dumps a high school aged Brooklyn, only to regret it much later after she becomes a world renown fashion model and beauty.  
   Not only does a female’s appearance affect her personally, as in her sense of self worth, but it correlates directly with that amount of personal power she wields.
   Men are valued more for their physical strength (why do men require physical strength? We’ve evolved from a hunter/gather society, in which physical agility was required to hunt. Strength was also necessary to fight other men over women, while women tended to fight each other over food and other resources), and their ability to aquire resources that enable them, among other things, to provide for their mates and offspring. Not so much their appearance... despite this Jeremy Meeks character (a convicted, violent felon. “Meeks’ experience is due to a type of cognitive bias known as “The Halo Effect.” This refers to the tendency to “view others holistically, that is, as all good or all bad.” In forming our overall opinion people are “highly influenced by first impressions” and when “we see a person first in a good light, it is difficult subsequently to darken that light.” This is why, for example, companies pay “beautiful actresses to promote products about which they have absolutely no expertise.” It is also why, once someone sees a mug shot of Meeks and concludes he’s attractive, it’s hard to also believe he’s guilty of a crime.” -Think Progress,  6-21-2014.), and Brad Pitt. The more resources a male can generate, or accumulate, the more attractive he is to the opposite sex, which in this case would be females. 
   “Money is the only true aphrodisiac.” -Richard Joyce
   Women on the other hand, are valued for their appearance and feminine demeanor, though female humans are perfectly capable of acquiring wealth, and the power that wealth brings. Society looks at wealthy and powerful women differently than men, who are still judged on their physical appearance, although wealthy women most likely will not be lacking in suitors or companionship, or mates.
   And wealth, as strange as it may seem, is hard to come by. About ten percent of Americans are considered wealthy, which means ninety are considered un-wealthy, or members of the middle class and poor. So unless you’re a member of the Walton  family, or Steve Jobs’ widow, getting into that ten percent club takes a lot of effort, if it’s possible at all. And why should women bother, they have their looks (and this is true throughout the world, in developed countries, and those that aren’t. A woman’s appearance and sexuality is highly prized and sought after by likely mates), and sexuality, as well as other prized qualities, (cooking, homemaking, intelligence, sense of humor, sense of wonder... whatever) which they can employ in order to secure a suitable mate who will hopefully provide all the resources she and her offspring will ever need (unfortunately, for a large percentage of women, once they do choose a mate, and have children, they become much too dependent on that mate, and lose most, if not all, of their personal power. I sympathize with their plight, and yes, it’s not fair).
   Take a look at picture number 15 above, which features the lovely Ellen Page and the not so lovely Seth Rogen. Most people would consider Ellen more aesthetically pleasing than Seth, I know I certainly would. Yet Seth, as a very successful actor, is probably as desirable a mate as Ellen is if she were broke. I would be after her myself, if she were broke, and despite the fact that she’s gay, if she were just a tad younger (Ellen’s just been named the female winner of this year's Sexiest Vegetarian Celebrity, from PETA. Congratulations Ellen!).
   Younger women are highly prized more so than older women because youth represents a longer period of time any particular female will be able to bear children, a direct correlation with the purpose of life.
   A women or girl's hair, for example. The tendency is to wear it long, and there's a specific reason for that. It is an instant, general indicator of that individuals physical, and thereby reproductive health. The more beautiful the female's hair is, the more desirable that female is as a potential mate, and the more suitors she will have to choose from.
   Oh, by the way, what is the purpose of life?
   If I had a nickel for every time that question has been asked I’d have quite a few nickels.
   I can answer this question with some degree of certainty. At least in one particular sense.
   The purpose of life, biologically, is to reproduce.
   You see it happening all of the time and everywhere! People, dogs, cats, snails, fish, avocados,  trees, even the satanic leaf-tailed geckos, and many others, they’re all reproducing all over the place. There’s no stopping them! It’s as if they are compelled to do so.
   Now there may be other purposes of life that our self awareness and evolved intelligence may place upon us, or allow us to explore, but those, if they exist, are beyond the scope of this discussion.
   Generally speaking, and I’m sorry about this ladies, but I didn’t make this stuff up (if you want to blame somebody, blame God, or evolution, or Steven Pinker, cognitive scientist and Johnstone Family Professor of Psychology at Harvard University, and his 1997 book “How the Mind Works,” and for that matter the collective works of the late planetary scientist, Dr. Carl Sagan, from which much of this source material has been derived), but the older a woman gets the less attractive she seems to the opposite sex. Her physical appearance tends to deteriorate rapidly after menopause. Because of the way men are made they are able to sire children well into old age, and therefore retain their attractiveness, physically, more so than females. Women tend to disguise the fact that they are getting older these days with the use of cosmetics, and surgery, seeking the appearance of youth that they once retained.
   So again generally speaking, men have the upper hand in their golden years, reproductively speaking, and women have that advantage when they are young. Young girls, after experiencing the rigors of puberty, seek out older boys (older boys representing greater resources in the form of cars, money, the prestige of associating with older guys rather than boys of their own age ) because they are able to, leaving males of their same age in the dust... reproductively speaking. Older boys are attracted to younger women because they represent a longer child bearing span... this representation takes the form of extreme prettiness and sexual attractiveness.   
   Of course this discussion concerns large groups of humans, like in a sociology course, and not individuals, who vary to an infinite degree. 
   Now about feminine attractiveness.
      “I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes, I have to turn my head until my darkness goes” -Mick Jagger 
     We’ve previously discussed gender based street harassment in the post “It’s Expensive Being a Girl,” and other associated penalties placed upon women just because they're female here. Jon Stewart, of “The Daily Show,” presented a piece on the sexual harassment of women, which they claim is constant, and possibly a dangerous phenomenon ladies face everyday. Please watch, here. The artist Tatyana Fazlalizadeh. examines the problem through art and other venues on her web site “Stop Telling Women to Smile,” which she created because she experienced street harassment on a constant basis, and quite often the men doing the harassment requested that she smile... for them, not that she might feel better about something, but so that males could elicit some positive response from the women they were harassing. 
   I’ve discussed this difficulty with many women I know personally, and it seems to be fairly universal in it’s scope... something that all young, fairly attractive females face on a daily basis.
   Men, no doubt, believe this type of behavior to be innocent fun, and actually a compliment towards the women they are turning their attention upon. However, I imagine, as illustrated in my post, that if the tables were turned and they were harassed in this manner constantly they would feel the same way as do women. As a matter of fact I’m freaking sure of it.
   I can’t imagine enduring the scrutiny of anyone in this manner, facing catcalls, whistles, lurid comments, car horns honking, etc., and I don’t believe the men doing these things believe that anything, some actual physical connection to the “object” they are addressing, will manifest itself as a result of their behavior, and I’ve always marveled at the idiocy of those I’ve seen do it to women on the street. 
   A lot of these men must have mothers, sisters, and daughters, and would most likely object stridently if these women  were subjected to this type of abuse. So why do they do it?
   First of all, they’re idiots. One can’t overemphasis the idiocy factor regarding this.
   But the main reason they do it is because men have a visceral reaction to the physicality of women, which is hardwired into them, and which they act out upon. Women may have the same feelings toward some men, I know ladies who get all googily toward certain guys, like Jeremy Meeks, for instance, or the actors, Charlie Hunnam, and Tatum Channing. My niece named her son after Hunnam’s character on the television program, “Sons of Anarchy,” for God’s sake, a violent, murderous thug (and another example of “The Halo Effect.”), but usually express themselves in a different manner, such as on social media (but that may be do to other considerations, such as women’s generally smaller physical stature).
   I would like to take this opportunity, again, to apologize to all women for all men. I don’t see how you put up with us (as Dr Sagan, would put it, the only thing men bring to the table that women can’t provide for themselves,  is a “vital substance” needed for reproductive purposes) . I would’nt if I were you.
   Visceral reactions to the opposite sex are a good thing as a species. If men and women were indifferent to each other physically we wouldn’t be here. 
   I know it’s hard to believe but women count on, and sometimes take advantage of the reaction they can elicit in men to further their goals, and I can’t say as I blame them (the lovely adult actress Ginger Lynn, one of the few I’ve actually met, at one time said that as a teenage girl she could give guys erections just by looking at them a certain way. I doubt that this ability is unique to her). In a world where the power base is strictly held by men, women will use whatever personal power that is available to them to their advantage. 
   Women often dress in provocative manners specifically to elicit a direct response from men, and anyone else who happen to notice. The skimpier a women dresses, such as actresses, and other ladies in the media, the more “stunning,” she is deemed by said media. And don’t get me started on the bikini, my gosh, these days ladies might as well not be wearing anything at all. 
   A personal example, I have an actress friend, Amy Paffrath, lovely girl (see how I’m automatically impelled to use the designation “lovely?” It can’t be helped, and is perfectly appropriate at times... like now). You may have seen her on Amazon Kindle commercials, as Amy, the Amazon customer representative lady who is always so helpful. Why here’s one now. 
   Isn’t she lovely (see)?
   Amy appears on many other television  programs, and hosts a show herself, and will soon (July 18th) appear in the upcoming film, “The Purge: Anarchy.” 
   And she keeps sending me pictures on Facebook, which I wholeheartedly appreciate because I’m fond of her. She sent me the left side of picture 19 above (being fair and balanced, unlike Fox so-called News, Amy provided an opposite view (point?) in the picture on the right a little later on) which elicited this response from me, “Amy, when I die this picture is the last thing I’m going to think about.” Now that’s an old line that I just thought up last week, and which I fully intend to use again sometime. I may even have it copyrighted.
   Now I know Amy is happily married, yet she is still amazingly attractive, and obviously very fit (intense yoga), hence my response, which was playful in intent, and hopefully complimentary (and decidedly more original than many of the other comments she received). I assume she took it the way I intended it to be taken, and no harm was done... in fact, just the opposite. 
   Which goes to say that many women expect this type of reaction from men... when they solicit it. As a matter of fact they’d probably be hurt if they did not receive similar responses. 
   The problem arises when attention is not solicited. And it is a problem, as a female’s attractiveness is like a radio wave, it is transmitted in all directions, to others she wishes it directed to, and to others she does not. 
   What can a girl do? Wear frumpy clothes, not bath, don’t wear make up, mess up her hair? That’s what I’d do, but for the most part, those actions not only deflect the attention of men, but also diminishes her personal power over them. 
   I have another friend, a lovely girl (see?), a correspondent for MSNBC, Irin Carmon, who keeps sending me messages about when she's going to appear on air, and what she will be talking about (what can I say, women flock to me, especially when I “Like” them on Facebook). 
   Now some might say, myself included, that Irin’s very pretty as well. Some men even say that, and more, to her on her Facebook page. I do not. Irin is a very nice, and a serious, intelligent, and earnest  journalist, who’s views I happen to agree with a large percentage of the time, and is not on line for the amusement of men. It would not be appropriate for me to make personal comments related to her appearance, or for that matter.any personal detail. 
   So I don’t.
   What comment did I place on Irin’s Facebook page today in response to her letting me know she would be appearing on several MSNBC morning programs discussing the Supreme Court Burwell v. Hobby Lobby Stores, Inc. case?
   “Corporations are not people, despite what the person above, Romney, and the Supreme Court attempt to impose upon us, and should not be accorded the same rights as flesh and blood human beings. The founding fathers, and those who took part in our Revolutionary War (and here I’m attempting to decipher original intent) did not fight and die so profit generating legal entities, or that the owners of such entities could impose their religious beliefs on others, whether those being imposed upon are employees of said entities, or not. If the owners of Hobby Lobby want to restrict access to birth control to their own families, have at it, but as far as forcing their views on their employees, I do not believe they have that right, and we shall see on Monday, whether the Supreme Court believes this as well, or we move one more step in making this country a dystopian nightmare. “
   I believe this was appropriate, and didn’t need to mention how pretty she is even once. 
   But women have to put up with that crap all of the time, much more so than men.
   It isn’t very hard for women to get the attention of men. Check out this classic scene from Monty Python, here
   My lovely ex-case manager, Erin, said this while watching it, “Men are so easy.” Which is very true. Men are decidedly less discerning in the acquisition of sexual partners than women. I replied to Erin with this statement, “It’s because men invest much less in the reproductive process,”  which is also true, and is where our conversation ended as Erin didn't wish to continue talking about reproduction with her client.
   Men on average, and here I’m relying on personal experience, invest about three hours on a good night, toward the reproductive process in a sexual encounter, some guys don’t last as long... I don’t know why.
   Women, on the other hand, and especially before the invention of effective contraceptive methods, run the risk of pregnancy after any given encounter. When a female becomes pregnant, the least amount of time she will invest is approximately nine months (unless she aborts, which throughout history was not always an option). If  she decides to rear the child herself, hopefully with the cooperation of the father, her time investment increases to six or seven years, as human infants are notoriously helpless after being born. 
   So women are hard wired to be more discerning toward engaging in sex, while the opposite is true for men. Reproductively speaking, men hope to leave as many offspring as possible, with as many different mates as possible. The Mongol warlord Genghis Khan, is said to have fathered thousands of children (after analyzing tissue samples in populations bordering Mongolia, scientists from the Russian Academy of Sciences believe the brutal ruler has 16 million male descendants living today...). The ideal reproductive situation for a man would be to father a child and have another man raise it as his own, leaving the father to move on to impregnate other women, hopefully with a similar outcome. So much for true love.
   Women, in looking for prospective mates, look more for a man who will provide long term care for her and their child, for a man who will invest the same amount of time that she will, in the raising of that child. And thus the invention of marriage evolved. What does a man get out of marriage? The promise of sexual exclusivity. A woman? A nest, if you will, a partner in the rasing of offspring, allowing them both to pass down their genes  to future generations, the most viable path to immortality one can achieve in one’s lifetime (except of course, if you’re a writer).
   This also explains society’s taboos regarding female promiscuous behavior. With the invention of effective contraception, women should be as free to express themselves sexually as much as men. Unfortunately medical science has evolved faster than society’s norms. 
   In America, and most industrial countries, females choose their mates. It’s not so in the rest of the world. Arranged marriages, child brides, and slavery are often the norm. 
   Why, and why are the indignities and the crimes against women that are discussed in the first part of this post committed?
   Well there’s a few reasons. Some for political gain, such as Republicans pandering to their respective bases, and the religious right. Some Republicans may even believe the dribble that they spue, but that is because they are sick and deluded. The harm that they perpetrate toward millions of women in this country is incalculable. How do we end it? Vote the assholes out of office! Get active. Stop watching “Dancing with the Stars,” and become involved with the things that matter to you the most, the things that affect your life the most. 
   Take charge, in some way, no matter how hard it may seem, no matter how large an obstacle may appear.
   As radio host Thom Hartmann quite often says, “Despair is not an option.”
   As far as I’m concerned all women should be independently wealthy and provided with birth control so that they may escape the  tyranny of men. 
   How about the senseless crimes committed towards women, the rape and murder, and the attitudes some in authority retain toward female victims?
   Well obviously rape and murder (and masturbating to women in public, for that matter, which I’ve discovered is more prevalent than I thought was possible) are against the law, here in this country and abroad, and should be prosecuted to the fullest authority of society’s laws, the more vigorously so, the more some potential perpetrators will think twice before committing these heinous acts.
   I believe that in certain countries, such as those in the Middle East lets say, men fear a woman’s sexuality and the power it gives them over men, so they deny that it exists, and try to control it, much to the sorrow of the women in those countries.  
   And men are instinctively bullies, and because they have greater upper body strength they have traditionally used that strength to subjugate women (women’s upper bodies are more often used  for two purposes other than fighting or subjugating, namely feeding babies, and befuddling the minds of men), and other men. Smaller men are bullied by larger men, which is the one and only good reason I can see for the invention of the gun, which tends to equalize matters in a close situation.
   And as we’ve discussed in my post “Psycho,” I’ve estimated that 1 in 6 people on this planet is afflicted with sociopathic tendencies. That’s well over a billion psychpaths roaming around free. Most of them are not violent, but many are (it is extremely unfortunate that Jyoti Singh and her friend got on a bus where all six passengers were psychopaths)
   So ladies... take care. Until we evolve into a “Star Trek” utopian society where everyone is truly equal and has the same opportunities in life, and life itself is held in much greater regard than it is today, we need to remain extremely vigilant, and continue our efforts to educate those who don’t know it, even our wonderful Buddhist friends, that women are not a commodity to be used and misused, and not an object, but the world’s beautiful, wise, and powerful natural companions, who should be able to cherish the experience of life, and it’s all to brief uniqueness in the universe, as freely as is possible.

Addendum: 6-30-14: The War on Men.
Addendum: 6-30-14: 5 Conservative Justices in the Supreme Court continue the War on Women.
Addebdum: 6-30-14: No Wonder There's a Problem.
Addendum: 7-1-14: How Did the FBI Miss 1 Million Rapes.
Addendum: 7-1-14: Fox News Idiocy.
Addendum: 7-1-14: Idiot's Idiocy.
Addendum: 7-1-14: Women's Rights, from Our Friend Irin.
Addendum: 7-1-14: More Idiocy from the International Conference on Men's Issues.
Addendum: 7-2-14: George Will's Idiocy.
Addendum: 7-20-14: Harassed Scientists.
Addendum: 7-21-14: Outrage in India.
Addendum: 7-23-14: Judge Suspended.
Addendum: 8-27-14: More Stuff from India.
Addendum: 9-1-14: English Terror.
Addendum: 10-28-14: Cat calls.
Addendum: 3-18-15: 3 girls in Delhi