Prop 8 and DoMA: Defining Marriage Isn't the Issue

My colleague at LA Progressive, Carl Matthes, makes a great point. While all of these people are bandying about trying to determine what the definition of marriage should be, they really should look at the definition of another word -- equality.

After the election, a close liberal friend of mine, who happens to be Jewish, said that she and her husband went to the dictionary to check the definition of the word “marriage” to help guide their vote on Prop 8. They wanted clarification on how marriage is defined. I assume they felt that by defining marriage clearly, this would give them direction for granting equal rights to gay men and lesbians.

Hmmm?!

She said her dictionary defined marriage as a union between a man and a woman. (As does my older Webster’s dictionary.) She then asked, “I wonder how your Oxford English Dictionary (OED) defines marriage?” So, for those who like to swallow their sense of equality with a big dose of dictionary, I submit the definition of “marriage” from volume IX of the XX volume OED which reads, “The condition of being a husband or wife; the relation between married persons; spousehood, wedlock.” Spousehood? And, no mention of man or woman. Those English must have known something which must have gotten lost in translation on the trip across the Atlantic. And, for those who like to play word games, notice the word “or” between husband or wife and not the word “and.” Oh, there could be two wives? Two husbands? A female as husband or a male as wife? My mind is reeling with possibilities.

I then thought that a better place to look in the dictionary for guidance on how to vote on same-sex marriage would be the word “equal.” My OED says that equal means, “Identical in amount; neither less nor greater…having the same measure, number, value, intensity, etc.” So, in the context of constitutional equality, I would expect to see next to the definition of equality a picture of Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi. Maybe in my friend’s dictionary there would be a picture of Strom Thurmond or Rush Limbaugh.

Not a lot of wiggle room with the word “equal.”

For years, people have told me that I need to compromise on the matter of the state permitting legal marriage for the GLBT community. Accept second-class citizenship in the form of civil union, they say -- it's good enough. Many gay and lesbian people do accept the diminishment meekly in the interest of peace. Good on them. Civil union is not equal, so it cannot be good enough. Ever. Grown-up people can and should compromise whenever possible, and on any other issue, I certainly am willing to make allowances or take less than I truly require or want. But not when it comes to equality: As the Supreme Court ruled a half-century ago, separate but equal isn't equal. We are either equal or we are not. This nation claims to offer equality under secular law for all. Therefore, equality, in a legal or non-theocratic sense, cannot be compromised.

Look it up:

equality (noun) - i kwóllətee, ee kwóllətee

equal (noun) - i kwól, ee kwól

MSN Encarta:

state of being equal: rights, treatment, quantity, or value equal to all others in a specific group
* full equality under the law

Merriam-Webster:

the quality or state of being equal (of the same measure, quantity, amount, or number as another; identical in mathematical value or logical denotation; equivalent - like in quality, nature, or status c: like for each member of a group, class, or society)
* provide equal employment opportunities>

Merriam-Webster Law Dictionary:

the quality or state of being equal: as 1. : sameness or equivalence in number, quantity, or measure 2.: likeness or sameness in quality, power, status, or degree

Dictionary.com:

the state or quality of being equal; correspondence in quantity, degree, value, rank, or ability; equal - as great as; the same as (often fol. by to or with); like or alike in quantity, degree, value, etc.; of the same rank, ability, merit, etc.; evenly proportioned or balanced; uniform in operation or effect; adequate or sufficient in quantity or degree; having adequate powers, ability, or means; impartial or equitable

American Heritage Dictionary:

The state or quality of being equal

WordNet:

the quality of being the same in quantity or measure or value or status

Unless one wants a theocracy, nope, you won't find wiggle room here. Equal is equal, period. The United States and all but two states in the union do not provide equality for all. I don't care how religious one claims to be -- no decent person should accept inequality. Frankly, I don't see how they could. And if the US is supposedly the greatest, fairest nation on the planet, it should act like it and acknowledge the full equality of all its citizens.

Color Box

Just a pretty thing for a cloudy foggy day. I love this picture. I don't know what it's a picture of, but that doesn't matter to me.

Photo Credit: Jan Stewart

Let's Feel Up Our Own Boobies - Here's the Technique

Hey Blog Sisters,

Last night I attended a Breast Cancer Awareness event at the Hue Man Bookstore in Harlem, NY thrown by The Lit Leaders Rosalind Mclymont, Linda A. Duggins, Esther Armah and Renee Daniel Flagler. I learned so much and was completely inspired to come home and feel up my boobs on camera just for you. There's a song and everything.

Whoo Hoo! I am willing to completely embarrass myself to save your life. Oh, and for post menopausal women, disregard the period part of the technique.

xo,
Abiola Abrams

McCain / Palin Haiku Contest Finalists Announced

Cool news! Nearly 4000 people submitted haiku to the McPalin Haiku Hysteria contest held by People For The American Way and The Nation Magazine. And I’m one of the twelve finalists!!! So I’d really appreciate your voting for my haiku here. The three winning haiku will be published in The Nation. Thanks!

The Ills of Big Pharma? What if there were a cure - right now - to save your life and you couldn't get it?

It's happening to Andrew Barron's dad, who happens to have a researcher on his case who has discovered something important.

It appears the Drug Company with the potential cure is trying to block its use.

In what can only be defined as a miracle in timing, a few days ago, one of his doctors who has been studying his tumor cells in the lab for years found an antibody with an exact match: Tysabri which is manufactured by your company, Biogen Idec. In the test tube, it attached to the antigens on the surface of the tumor 100%.

Though the drug has never been used before in this way, and because time is running out, the head of the FDA, Dr. Andrew von Eschenbach has granted special approval for use of the drug for this purpose but you have personally decided “no”.

Help Andrew if you can - he says how in his post.

-----

Quinn Swims From Angel Island (And It Wasn't Even On Fire)

Quinn Swims From Angel Island (And It Wasn't Even On Fire)

Our part-aquatic friends the Woodheads continue to make their mark in the chilly world of open water swimming. Here's eight-year-old Quinn finally coming up for air, a towel, and age-group winning honors after swimming from Angel Island (San Francisco Bay) to Tiburon. He's gearing up for more Alcatraz shenanigans next.

Palin Found Guilty of Ethics Violation & Abuse of Power

From All Facts and Opinions

Brian Ross of ABC News reports that investigator Stephen Branchflower determined that while Sarah and Todd Palin's desire to have their former brother-in-law fired was not the only reason for Walt Monegan's sacking, it was part of the justification for it, and that made the move unethical and illegal.

I have read the 263-page Branchflower report from start to finish. These are its major findings:

Finding Number One:

For the reasons explained in section IV of this report, I find that Governor Sarah Palin abused her power by violating Alaska Statute 39.52.110(a) of the Alaska Executive Branch Ethics Act. Alaska Statute 39.52.110(a) provides

“The legislature reaffirms that each public officer holds office as a public trust, and any effort to benefit a personal or financial interest through official action is a violation of that trust.”

Finding Number Two:

I find that, although Walt Monegan’s refusal to fire Trooper Michael Wooten was not the sole reason he was fired by Governor Sarah Palin, it was likely a contributing factor to his termination as Commissioner of Public Safety. In spite of that, Governor Palin’s firing of Commissioner Monegan was a proper and lawful exercise of her constitutional and statutory authority to hire and fire executive branch department heads.

Finding Number Three:

Harbor Adjustment Service of Anchorage, and its owner Ms. Murleen Wilkes, handled Trooper Michael Wooten’s workers’ compensation claim properly and in the normal course of business like any other claim processed by Harbor Adjustment Service and Ms. Wilkes. Further, Trooper Wooten received all the workers’ compensation benefits to which he was entitled.

Finding Number Four:

The Attorney General’s office has failed to substantially comply with my August 6, 2008, written request to Governor Sarah Palin for information about the case in the form of emails.

More from Bloomberg:

"Governor Palin knowingly permitted a situation to continue where impermissible pressure was placed on several subordinates in order to advance a personal agenda, to wit: To get Trooper Michael Wooten fired,'' according to the report issued today in Anchorage.

Even so, the report said Palin's firing in July of former state Public Safety Commissioner Walt Monegan, who had refused to fire Wooten, was a "proper and lawful exercise'' of her wide authority to fire department heads for any reason. Monegan contends the governor dismissed him for refusing to fire Wooten, who was involved in a divorce and custody battle with Palin's sister.

Violation of the ethics act could result in sanctions, such as a fine, by a state ethics board, lawmakers said.

Members of the Legislative Council voted 12-0 to release the report even though there wasn't agreement on the findings, lawmakers said.

"I don't think there is a consensus on the conclusions,'' said Representative Bill Stoltze.

Top 5 Reasons I Should Not Be Your Child's Godmother ;-D

Hey Blog Sisters,

Here's the scoop. In my outer circle, my friends are popping out babies faster than the Palin family. In my inner circle however, my girls are all deliriously happy indie artist single goddesses unburdened by the darling delight that is motherhood.

Many of those wonderful outer circle girlfriends are trying to carefully choose who should raise their children should something horrible befall them. Others are trying to figure out which potential godparents would give their rugrats the best gifts. While some may be competing for these prized godmother spots, I write this impassioned plea to let you know, my pregnant and soon to be pregnant friends, when it comes to godmotherhood I am not your woman.

I have 2 godchildren, one nephew and a cat. Add to that trying to still trying to raise myself and my best friends and my hands are pretty full. I was blessed to have the best parents on the planet and then to add to my embarrassment of riches my Uncle Patrick and Aunt Ena ROCK as godparents. When I took off for LA to seek my fortune, telling my parents to kiss the back of the $300 jeans that they'd bought me, my Aunt Ena saw to it that the floor I was sleeping on was padded with a comfy mattress and silk sheets. And my Uncle Patrick was no slouch either. When I was that annoying brat in the first row of 2nd grade raising my hand before the questions were asked Uncle P kept me stocked in Highlights magazines so that I could be the chick lit writer I am today! Alas, my friends, this is too much to live up to. I am selfishly enjoying life too much to commit to helping you raise your children. Lest you doubt me in this area, I offer you this:

TOP 5 REASONS YOU SHOULD CHOOSE SOMEONE ELSE AS YOUR BABY'S GODMAMA

5) The Blooming Plants. I adore plants and greenery of any kind. I have been known to annoyingly remark during rainstorms, "well the trees need water too." When my EFH (Ex From Hell) aka SGF (Still Good Friend) and I decided to part ways (meaning he cheated on me with every cheap trick available) I was forced to leave my lovely houseplants. They all had special meaning to me and were gifts from people I cared for. Fine, I thought as I packed to move to an apartment with no window ledges, you keep the bloody plants. In my mind, the plants would miss my tender affection and all quickly drop dead, forcing EFH to realize that I was the glue that held the very threads of life together. Instead, when I returned a year later to collect the bulk of my things, I found a virtual greenhouse! The plants were flourishing like they never had when I watered them with PUR, fed them and even spoke to them. The plants were glad that I was gone. Imagine how your kids would feel if I was left in their care.

4) K & R. My current godchildren. Wonderful as they are I am embarrassed to say that I rarely see them. One mother tried to ply me to visit with guilt by saying that poor little R asked how come she only sees Auntie Abiola inside the TV. How did I deal with this? Did I pack up a bushel of toys and books and head over? No, I apologized and felt guilty for 5 whole minutes before reiterating Goddess Maxim Number 3 - Guilt is a Wasted Emotion. Then I met my inner circle girls for Tuesdays at Tilman's- a delightful feast of networking and debauchery in Manhattan. Whatareyougonnado? Let your child fall to this same fate? Not recommended.

3) Better Alternatives. If something were to happen to you, might I suggest a nunnery or that uncle you mentioned who lives in your basement?

2) The Pets. When I was a kid, I never took to the baby dolls. Instead I turned my toy refrigerator on the side to make a file cabinet and turned the toy stove into a pretend desk to write on. When I was bored with that, my refrigerator was Barbie's second townhouse. True story! The Abrams family did have pets from time to time. The two I remember the most are the dogs Rocky and Flirt. I can honestly swear on a stack of Bibles that I never ever had physical contact with either of these animals. I am embarrassed to add that 2 years ago when my sister was shocked by and opposed to me getting a cat, Flirt's name came up and I asked how was he. Flirt is a girl, my sister explained. Oh, I said. When I did get a cat my sister and cousin came over and threatened to rescue her if she showed any signs of neglect! Again, true story.

1) My Beloved Kitty Anabelle. My daughter Anabelle is the only child that I can contend with at the moment. She is loved, well fed, happily spoiled and cared for. (When I sit writing for 14 hours and forget to feed her, she reminds me ASAP.) I am leaving soon for Guyana Fashion week and luckily I have friends that remind me to find a sitter for her. Those friends unfortunately are also the same inner circle single childless friends who give me horrible cat mothering advice like put olive oil on Anabelle's back to make her clean herself better. (Don't ask. I'll share this one day.) Your kids don't need this. And besides, Anabelle doesn't really like children.

Think carefully about who you choose as a godmother. I may appear on the surface to be a great surrogate mom catch. However, if you take the time to look deeper I think you'll agree that there are others who are much more deserving of this honor. If some disaster were to befall you, I could be entrusted with your wardrobe, however.

Love / Hugs,
Abiola
Curator of the Goddess Factory Lifestyle

"You've really gotten us into a mess this time, Ollie!"

Comparing Laurel and Hardy to McCain/Palin is a stretch, but if the financial mess we're in now doesn't focus the country's attention on the sorry state of affairs from eight years of insanity, then we deserve to crash.

The presidential campaign of '52 was the first I was old enough to remember, and it seemed so exciting and patriotic back then. We'd just come out of the war, the country was booming, and yes, there were problems, though they seem elementary compared to now. After listening to Stevenson and Eisenhower speak, I expected that the academic would easily beat out the old war horse. That was my first lesson in the short-sightedness of the American public. When I questioned my parents why Stevenson lost, my mom said, "He was too smart for the average American to understand." It didn't make much sense at the time. Unfortunately, she was right.

What does it take for your average American citizen to wake up to the fact that we've shot ourselves in both feet, at home and abroad? I traveled in Central Europe this summer, and was impressed by the sight of wind turbines twirling in swirling wheat fields. We are so terribly out of touch with what's going on in the rest of the world--all we see through the MSM lens is strictly US-centric. We've been salted down, wrapped in cotton wool, and isolated from reality.

Same thing when I lived in Australia for two years. There's so much more going on out there than Americans know. It was a relief to live a life in which American doom and gloom and rotten capitalism was reduced to an 11:30-midnight slot every night, and to have the choice to simply not watch. I learned about countries I'd never heard of before. Saw island nations strip mined by American megacorporations, the population decimated when the silt from runoff ruined the fishing economy. Watched the New Zealand Navy surround the French islands where Chirac conducted an underwater nuclear bomb test. Did this news ever make it to the US media? My guess is the O.J. fiasco pre-empted news of any value.

For all our bluster and misplaced pride, the US has slipped into a Third World existence where we have higher infant mortality than a couple of dozen countries. Our education system is abysmal. Le Monde and other overseas newspapers were solidly behind Obama this summer, and doubtless still are. Even the old standby, American Express Travelers Checks, were in bad odor. If Europeans would accept them, they charged an exhorbitant fee, telling us that by the time they got their money back from AmEx, the dollar would have devalued enough to justify the up to 50% fee.

I learned the hard way that when you finally leave an abuser for good, that's when they deliver the coup de gras. For the unpardonable offense of extricating yourself from a toxic relationship, the abuser seeks to get their last, hardest licks in. That's the one thing I fear for America. That the "October Surprise" will result in either martial law, another stolen election, or both.

It is so frustrating to see the rest of the world taking steps to strengthen their populace and economies, while our particular brand of capitalism only leads to an acute concentration of wealth in the hands of sociopaths, and the common wo/man is crushed beneath the wheel of greed.

OK, decomissioning the soapbox for a while. Please go vote. Hopefully for Obama, but if not, be prepared for a messy backlash.

'Peanuts' animator Bill Melendez dies at 91 - MSN TV News

'Peanuts' animator Bill Melendez dies at 91 - MSN TV News

He was the voice of Snoopy. I hope heaven is enjoying a lot of laughter today.

Rating the Party Platforms

from Natalie Davis' All Facts and Opinions
http://gratefuldread.net
http://gratefuldread.wordpress.com/

With the Republican National Convention under way in St. Paul, MN, the time has come to look at the various political parties' platforms side by side. A great organization, eQualityGiving.org, exists to funnel donations to worthy GLBT-supporting candidates. The group rates candidates as either pro-equality, anti-equality, or "heartbreaker." The latter designation means the candidate or party supports some pro-equality planks but just can't work up the nerve to stand for marriage equality -- meaning they oppose full equality under law for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. The eQualityGiving.org comparison shows that one party ranks as pro-, one ranks as anti-, and two end up as heartbreakers. Can you guess which is which?

The answers can be found by checking out these two easy to read tables:

1) Comparison of the 2008 Democratic and Republican Party Platforms
http://www.equalitygiving.org/Party-Platform

2) Comparison of the 2008 Libertarian and Green Party Platforms
http://www.equalitygiving.org/Libertarian-Party-Platform-Green-Party-Platform

Sorry, Barack fans who are surprised and disappointed, but if you'd done your homework, you would have known already (and, by the by, Hillary is a heartbreaker too). But Obama is certainly better than the one angry and completely anti-GLBT candidate. Of course, there is one fully pro-GLBT candidate...

A Personal Story

From the Lurking Shadows: The Celibate Slut Diaries

Hello my Blog Sisters!
I have been a lurker here for years and recently decided to finally share something with you. It is just to bring a little levity into your holiday weekend. I am just cutting and pasting from my Powell's guest blog for ease -- not to sell anything. So feel free not to click any of the links! ;-)

The Powell's Diary has been causing such an email uproar that I decided to reprint the text here. Enjoy!

------------------------------------------
Playful take on bedroom talk, Dirty Words: A Literary Encyclopedia of Sex is a smart, funny encyclopedia with entries written by notable contemporary writers. This week we're pleased to feature a different post each day from one of the book's contributors.

Today's post is by Abiola Abrams, author of Dare, who has been a BET host for the past two years and currently also hosts The Planet Abiola Show for blackplanet.com. Find her blog, videos, manifestos, Dare excerpts, and more at www.thegoddessfactory.com.]

June 19, 2008
INTRODUCTION

I would introduce myself using my standard party intro but you are a much classier crowd than the parties I have found myself at recently. My essay "Slut" in Dirty Words: A Literary Anthology of Sex is about growing up as somewhat of a prude, bearing the burden of representation, envying the girls we called sluts and... Well, you'll have to buy the book to find out.

It was kismet when Ellen assigned me the S-word. You see, I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex.

Slut is more than a description of a wanton woman. Slut is a lifestyle. Haven't you seen Sex and the City, ads for stripping classes, Girls Gone Wild trial transcripts, and the Pussycat Dolls videos?

I am purposefully single. What does that mean? It means that I am committed to dating promiscuously and hanging out with wonderful guys but keep my knees together, grandma-style. Just because you've picked up the tab on my sesame chicken does not ensure you a day pass to the Promised Land. Therefore I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex.Therefore I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex.

Oh, and if you want to fix me up, I like men who are as beautiful on the inside as they are on the outside and who love to read as much as they love to dance. Also be the kind of man who makes dinner and has a sense of humor. I know. Original.

February 15, 2004
BERLIN HOMEGIRL

You ever hang out with 2 people who clearly really do not want to be hanging out with you?

Ever been hanging out with a friend and a love connection develops between her and someone else and now you're the 5th wheel to the coach, but you don't want to leave her alone with the guy, although she secretly wishes you would, so you sit in a bar you don't want to be in, nursing something you really don't drink, and pretend that her conversation is amazingly hilarious to build her up to the guy who's not really listening to you anyway, at 5 in the morning Berlin time when you really want to be home sleeping in your warm bed instead of on a spontaneous date between 2 people who don't know you're there in a cold, miserable European bar full of hideous, butt-ugly junkies of some sort who, unfortunately, are really the only people who seem to notice you as you turn your fabulous engagement rock backwards on your finger New York Subway-style because you get the feeling that if they lunged at you that neither your friend nor the future boyfriend would really notice, and the junkies seem to be laughing like they've seen that trick before? Uh-huh.

February 15, 2008
MY DATABLE APARTMENT

My bachelorette apartment is in Northern Manhattan, SOHA, Morningside Adjacent, or Harlem. Pick whichever label makes you feel safe. I finally have a space that I totally love. My haven is called the Goddess Factory. That's also the name of my website. Yes, my home has a name and my friends know that they can drop by the Goddess Factory anytime, day or night.Yes, my home has a name and my friends know that they can drop by the Goddess Factory anytime, day or night. The only hazard of living in an oasis is that when there is inclement weather my apartment is the most fun place to be, so I tend to invite new people over prematurely.

Okay, I need to clarify the weather thing for non-New Yorkers. Weather in New York is an event. It can be 40 degrees one day and 90 degrees the next. The weather was insane today but I had a first date with a guy I don't care to remember. I said why don't we just hang out at my apartment and order in — no hanky panky, of course. I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex.

My friend Pilar was appalled, feeling that I was sending this guy who I don't care to remember the wrong message. She made me establish a rule that no one could come to my house until the fourth or fifth date. The fifth date? Oy vey! Most dudes blunder and are removed from the Abiola guest list long before then, but there's hope.

I do understand her logic, though. An invitation back to the apartment usually means sex. For me, inviting them into my personal space feels like a very free Holly Golightly in Breakfast At Tiffany's thing. Meet my space, meet me. Well — Audrey Hepburn as Holly in the movie, not Holly in Truman Capote's original novel. She was a prostitute.

Hmm. Maybe I won't invite anyone else home for a while.

May 11, 2008
FENG SHUI FOR LOVE

Contemplating bringing men home got me thinking about the look of my apartment. Yes, it's cable ready and wi-fied out, but is The Goddess Factory wired for love?Yes, it's cable ready and wi-fied out, but is The Goddess Factory wired for love?

The Goddess Factory definitely looks like the inside of my head. There are huge wall murals, graffiti on the fridge, Middle Eastern pillows, rugs, cool masks and art everywhere. Imagine my surprise when I bought a book called Feng Shui for Love & Romance and discovered several big no-nos.

Top 3 Ways I Feng Shui'd for Love:

1) My many pictures of women alone were bad for the law of attraction. Some of these pictures were of me, some were of my mom or aunt, and the majority were pieces of art. I bought a new print of a gorgeous loving couple which I put over my bed. I also traded my solo pix for pix of me with friends when possible. I even gave away Mullet Woman, a huge South African painting, to my friend Nathan.

2) Everyone's still on the men like to eat and food is the way to his heart thing. I have no dining table and that's bad love shui but there's no room. I live in New York City. I did procure two "mini-dining tables" that I can bring out when necessary. You may call them folding TV trays in your world.I did procure two "mini-dining tables" that I can bring out when necessary. You may call them folding TV trays in your world. See, men? No need to fear. You can get your grub on at Casa Abiola's.

3) The last change I made was moving my Goals Board to a private space. Yeah, it is clear that I am a weird funky art chick from the moment you walk in and see goddess graffiti drawings on the wall, but you don't have to know that I secretly aspire to be Martha Stewart and Oprah Winfrey combined right away.

Ultimately I redirected the energy to mostly make it flow for me first and then for whomever my future partner will be second. However, I am not into baiting and switching. I am not going to put the more masculine Tolstoy out when my favorite novelist is Toni Morrison. I'm not leaving Netflix of The Da Vinci Code or Will Smith flicks around when I would rather watch Juno, SatC, or Foxy Brown again. And yes it's corny but my "I love you Abiola" screen saver gives me a small boost of self esteem when I'm procrastinating.

I also didn't do anything about my kitty Anabelle's litter. Hey, a cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do. Better Anabelle is comfy than some random dude.

This isn't a dog pound. It's the Goddess Factory. And yeah — there's a lot of frou frou, apparently also a big love no-no. But hey! I am a frou frou gal. Tiaras, candles and feathers abound. Deal with it. Or go home.I am a frou frou gal. Tiaras, candles and feathers abound. Deal with it. Or go home.

Hmmm... Maybe I'll reread the book.

December 10, 2007
DUDE VETTING

I have been preparing for my book release party. My debut novel Dare is about to be published by Simon and Schuster. It's the story of Maya, a sociologist dealing with heartbreak and getting back into the world of love. Her adventure is actually a comedic contemporary retelling of Faust with affirmations and homework assignments woven in between.

Talking about my new book has me thinking: There is a fundamental difference between being a single woman and being a single man — we have more safety concerns. Call it an unfortunate side effect of growing up in New York City but I can't trust just anybody. I remember waiting for the 86th Street bus afterschool and a grown man with a brief case asked me how old I was. "Sixteen," I answered, suddenly aware of how short I'd rolled up my uniform that day. "You're too old for me," he said.

Men have to be vetted. Who are you? What are your references? Men have to be vetted. Who are you? What are your references?

Because I am a sort of public person guys have the advantage. I am sort of pre-vetted. They can watch and read my work — the hits and all too often misses. They can see that I wore a tacky over-boobalicious black dress on the interview with Ashanti and realize that I may make some teeny wardrobe mistakes. Like Elvira may secretly be my stylist. They can find out with not much digging that I sauntered out onto the set of a Lifetime TV shoot feeling at the height of cuteness and fell SPLAT on my booty, Gucci platform flying. They can see that in one episode of The Planet Abiola Show I inexplicably channel Rosie Perez from the dancing to the Brooklyn accent. Prospective dates may even read in the acknowledgments of my novel me telling a guy that I dated for 15 minutes and no longer even speak too that I will "see him on the jet." Ugh.

So men know the relatively crazy, sexy, geeky, fun, and cool mess that they are probably in for. I can only go up from there.So men know the relatively crazy, sexy, geeky, fun, and cool mess that they are probably in for. I can only go up from there. They know that despite all of this I hang out a shingle and occasionally offer advice.

The best dates, of course, come from hook ups. See? Pre-vetted. Or at the party of a friend of a friend. Pre-vetted. But the drawback is that it's time to move beyond my circle.

Wait — duh — there is vetting. It's called Google. What am I thinking? We are the society of pre-vetted dates. The mystery is gone. Good. Mystery is overrated. If I could run someone's credit check before the date that would be great. Must be a way...

April 17, 2008
THE CRYBABY

I had an interesting date with "Alex," my third grade crush who has now become an investment banker. We ran into each other at Baskin Robbins, of all places. When they say 31 Flavors, I guess they're not lying. Alex is a tall, green-eyed cutie pie with a nice body, from what I could make out through the outline in his sharp Italian suit.

We had a great Japanese dinner with decent conversation and then afterwards went to have drinks at a sleepy lounge in the Village. Since the last time we'd met Alex was calling Davey Sirus a nose picker, we got caught up on each other's lives. The convo was cool. High school, college, etc. Then things got more personal and Alex revealed that his childhood was sad and at many times a living hell.

Alex began to cry.

His story was most definitely a tear jerker. Under normal circumstances I would have been crying too. But then again I cry at the Kleenex commercials. However, I couldn't cry because I felt like someone had to hold it together. We were in a public place. I didn't even reach out to hold him because I didn't know him that well. It was only the first date.I didn't even reach out to hold him because I didn't know him that well. It was only the first date.

So what did I do during the tearjerker portion of the evening? I had a glass of wine and patted his hand. Applied lip glass a couple of times and had another glass of wine. I'm sorry. This was just too much.

First I thought, Hmm, maybe this is a good thing because Alex feels so comfortable with me. But as the waterworks continued I thought, This guy is a total mess. I was completely turned off. First dates are like job interviews. You put your best foot forward. If this was as pulled together as he could get I can't imagine being three or six months in.

Trust me. I am compassionate. I am the person my friends call when they need an ear or a shoulder to cry on. For this reason I just can't allow myself to get sucked into the vortex of a spiritual vampire. Sorry, Alex. With no regrets I wrote down some books by Dr. Wayne Dyer including Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life that I thought might be of use to him and kept it moving. When he called to make new plans, I was elusive before giving him a "Yes, let's definitely keep in touch."

March 16, 2008
I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOUR BLOG

I just came from a date with someone I'll call Blog Boy. He was cool and works for the press. We went to Bowlmor, a bowling alley-slash-club-slash-fun scene in New York. It's been cool forever — very rare in The City. Well, on non-tourist nights.

Blog Boy was introduced to me by a friend of mine. She emailed us each other's blogs and MySpace pages. After pouring over his intelligent political blog I was in love. He was witty, though-provoking, edgy, and devastatingly handsome. And vetted. I thought, This is it. A wrap on my purposeful singlehood.I thought, This is it. A wrap on my purposeful singlehood.

WRONG. Blog Boy was totally different from the man that I had pre-met. As a mediamaker, I am no yokel. I know that much of what we read and see is smoke and mirrors. I have been at the film editing table when we stretched the picture to make a guy's paunch go away. But for Blog Boy to be such a 180 from the Prince Charming I was expecting based on his public personality was surprising.

Blog Boy only wanted to talk about Jack Black. Then he burped loudly and wiped his oily hands on his jeans. There was dirt in his fingernails and he went overboard on the bowling game, yelling and carrying on like we were there to train for the Bowling Olympics.

And then you won't believe what happened next. Blog Boy spit on the sidewalk in the middle of Manhattan. I felt like I was on an episode of The Simple Life. WTH? Blog Boy, I thought I knew ye!

I have a myspace, facebook, twitter, flickr, linkedin, blogger, youtube channel, stickham, last fm, blip... And probably some other stuff that I am forgetting. If someone delved into all of my pages they wouldn't know the total intimate Abiola, of course, but love me or hate me, they would have a very good idea of who I am.If someone delved into all of my pages they wouldn't know the total intimate Abiola, of course, but love me or hate me, they would have a very good idea of who I am.

Thus ended the chronicle of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Blog.

It got me thinking... Who else has screen personalities? Judging from some facebook pages, fuggedaboutit! And yes, my myspace may seem like a hot mess, but at least that hot mess is really me.

July 19, 2007
TEXTUAL HEALING

Have you ever had text sex? Last year I entered into an extensive textual relationship with a man I'll call AD who lived and worked a lot out of town. I met him when I was directing a short film. AD was fun, creative, and unfortunately, always away. We fell into a de facto long distance relationship mostly because I am a serial monogamist if left to my own tendencies. Remember? I am a celibate slut.

We had so much incredible tension between us that it completely exploded whenever we were finally together. However, when he was in town for more than a week it fizzled. It was all about the hot texts.

I wish that I could provide a G-rated version of our text message transcripts but I couldn't even begin to translate. My friends were reading my phone like it was a romance novel.My friends were reading my phone like it was a romance novel. My paranoid friend Pilar was horrified at the paper trail I was leaving.

The only bad part of our textual healing was that when I was over AD it turned into textual harassment. Then I had to hack-program my phone to block him. Oh, well.

June 11, 2008
WILL U MAKE ME DNNR?

If this was not my year of living purposefully single, the Abiola dating game would be the Kamau's game to lose. This man is fine. Gorgeous. Brilliant. Beautiful. Problem? He lives in Africa. Kamau is a lawyer and comes into town maybe 4 times a year.

Anyway, I was at a book signing at Barnes and Noble when I got the text: IN TOWN. FREE? I lost my train of thought so much that I had to ask the reader in front of me her name three times.

YES! I sent back immediately. Then the next text was simultaneously titillating and confusing: WILL U MAKE ME DNNR?

My mind went into single girl overdrive. What did this mean? Was this an important step? I mean, Kamau and I had never even been in the same private space alone together.

I fully intended to make Kamau a delicious meal. I was going to attempt my mother's curry chicken with my father's fresh bread. I have never made bread from scratch so this was going to be totally new for me. But with a WILL U MAKE ME DNNR? text from Kamau, I was willing to go all out.

On the appointed day Fresh Direct delivered the ingredients bright and early. My apartment was clean and feng shui'd for love.My apartment was clean and feng shui'd for love. And then I got an important work call. A huge coup — an interview with Janet Jackson's man Jermaine Dupri and his new singer Dondria. I ran off to work and came back in with only an hour before Kamau would make his appearance.

I let my fingers do the dialing and a half an hour later I was unwrapping an amazing Italian dinner. Ziti, veggie lasagna, Caesar salad, fresh garlic bread, the works! Then there was scant time for me to get my "fresh dressed like a million bucks" look going. (Slick Rick rap song lyric)

Kamau arrived right on time and said that he was starving — for food. We got caught up as I laid everything out with my gorgeous crystal glasses for the red wine that he brought with him.

Before I could even sit down, Kamau said (insert sexy British accent): "You changed my opinion of you, Abiola. You didn't seem like the cooking kind of girl."

I didn't seem like the cooking kind of girl?! What could I say to that? Got take out?I didn't seem like the cooking kind of girl?! What could I say to that? Got take out? There didn't seem time to correct Kamau as he devoured his meal. I was too busy trying to un-puzzle his words, consider how I was possibly being insulted, and meditate on how perfect his lips looked. Mum was the word as his praise went into overdrive about how great my cooking was. I was a hit! Or at least Mama Rosa's was.

After dinner I told the Kamau that I had to wake up early and kissed him good night. Remember? I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex. Kamau kept raving on and on about how special it was that I cooked for him.

"Anytime," I said.

What? I feel no guilt in this situation and if through some weirdness we ever fell madly in love I would tell him.

"Want me to take out the garbage?" he asked as he left.

"No thanks," I said, thinking of my bags of empty containers. "I'll get it tomorrow." Wink-wink.

April 1, 2008
YOU CAN FIND ME IN THE CLUB

Whooo! My adrenaline is going. I just got in from the most fun night. I was at Club Hiro dancing on the tables with my girls all night long!I was at Club Hiro dancing on the tables with my girls all night long! Paper Magazine chose me as one of their 50 Most People. Gasp. I feel vindicated that in the 11th grade Ms. Stein confiscated my Paper Magazine... while I was reading it in class.

My posse accompanied me to that party and then we had late drinks at Tilman's. We ran into a friend I will call Very Famous Guy. VFG told us about his brother's birthday party at a club across town. I put out a blast on twitter that I would be there and several more people met us at the jam.

After we were there for a while I spotted something delicious across the room. Kirby — a handsome guy who I'd had a year-long flirt with. Tall, with an incredible body and a huge curly afro. He had a way of looking directly into your being as you speak to him.

Kirby is like a junior Barack Obama with all of his youth justice, social issues, and not-for-profit work. In the interest of full disclosure I had tried twice already to lamely hit on Kirby and was feeling that clearly he was just not that into me.In the interest of full disclosure I had tried twice already to lamely hit on Kirby and was feeling that clearly he was just not that into me.

Lame Attempt 1: I volunteered to make a pro bono documentary about Kirby's incredible youth group when I don't even have time to visit my cousins in Brooklyn.

Lame Attempt 2: It was Martin Luther King Day and Kirby sent out a statement about how we should all live up to Dr. King's ideals. I googled and found 3 amazing MLK quotes and hit him back saying that here were some similar quotes that had inspired me. Well, they did! As soon as I found them. Stop laughing.

Anyway, the club was a different matter. Kirby invited me to "talk downstairs" and then we totally ended up making out in the solo bathroom!

I know that most of you might have moved past bathroom copulation when you were 18 — and no, we didn't go to third base — but give me a break here. I went to an all girl's school and a predominantly women's college. Then I was in one loooong term relationship. I missed out on some developmental stuff. Like bathroom fornication.I missed out on some developmental stuff. Like bathroom fornication. I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex.

I will say though without apology that it was hot. The thumping music was the perfect soundtrack. And yes, the bathroom was clean. It was a little less than cute to pull my sweaty self together and exit to find that such a long line had grown that the security guard was standing by to make sure that I was ok. Whoops. C'est La Vie.

By the way, the doc about his youth group never happened. It was too embarrassing to face his "kids" again and tell them the right and wrong ways of the grown up world.

Judge away, haters! At least my walk of shame was only back to the VIP area.

June 3, 2008
WHO'S THE MAN

I am a feminist. Not a wimpy, closeted chick but the kind who makes political speeches at high schools. This has nothing to do with my weakness for testosterone-heavy men who are man enough to step up to the plate and be manly. Understood?

Recently, I was working on a citizen journalist project with a guy that we'll call Scaredy McNervous. Scaredy kept telling everyone except me how much he likes me. Argh.

I don't want to ask him out. I want to be wooed. I want the man to make an effort. Look at what happened with my lame Kirby attempts.

I really do believe that men have a hunt and gather gene. Look at their work and leisure habits. They pursue everything as a game. This usually is a turn-on. I could easily ask SMN out no problem, but I also don't want to set up a precedent to entertain his wimpy tendencies. Moving on.

June 17, 2007
TOO MUCH BOOBAGE

I realize now that I have been on a cleavage overload. So I am cutting back.I realize now that I have been on a cleavage overload. So I am cutting back. Not quitting cold turkey just a step down program. Most people are horrified at what they wore to their proms. I am horrified to see what I wore yesterday. I can't even watch my Ashanti interview. Yuck. Note to self: Correct before leaving for the Divas of Literature Mall Tour this summer. Cleavage does not belong in a mall. And besides, real breasts are no competition for all of the gravity-defying boobage out there.

June 19, 2008
SINGLE BINGO

I am a recovering serial monogamist so I devised a game called Single Bingo to snap me and my kind out of this behavior. My theory is that you have to experience all of the squares on the board before making a commitment to any one. The way I see it, we should all date promiscuously. Now, that doesn't mean giving up the goodies to every Tom, Dick, and James, or anyone at all, it just means seeing what is available and getting your date on.Now, that doesn't mean giving up the goodies to every Tom, Dick, and James, or anyone at all, it just means seeing what is available and getting your date on.

Think basketball team. You have your starting line-up and your benched players. This is living purposefully single. Then you make your one true choice and yell BINGO. It will be even more worth it at that point and I can't wait.

I am a complete slut. I just don't have sex. Right now.

Is Keith Olbermann turning into Bill O’Reilly?

Is it just me? Or is Keith Olbermann turning into Bill O’Reilly?

The bombastic commentary. The narcissism. And, of course, the misogyny.

I’d thought that once Obama clinched the Democratic nomination, it would be safe to start watching Countdown again. Without Keith’s daily anti-Hillary target practice, I might even be able to watch it without cringing.

Wrong!

There's more here.

How Not To Run A Movie Screening

"In a parallel universe, Monday night’s New York Film Academy screening of John Cusack’s War, Inc. was great, as was the Rachel Maddow-moderated Q & A that followed the screening. Back on earth, however, the screening didn’t go quite so well. In fact … it barely went at all. ..."

There's much more about War, Inc. Interruptus here.

Feminism and Two Trainwrecks on the Interwebs

The Internets work how they're supposed to. This is a write-up on some movement called "The Open Source Boob Project" at some SF con. Man, that's wrong. If there's anything to perpetuate the stereotype that sci-fi geeks are socially inept men not getting any and still living in their parents' basement, that is it. Somewhat unrelated: This reminds me of this internet money raising thing I've come across before on some blogs--where people put up pictures of their (covered) breasts to raise money for something, a charity I think. And then there's this whole breast cancer awareness thing. Yes, worthy causes, but when random men start championing these kinds of things, I can't help but feel a little skeeved about it all. Do men only sit up and notice if there are breasts involved?

Feminist bloggers and racism. Interesting schism. That's the problem with devoting oneself to a particular cause/movement/whathaveyou. People get tunnel vision. It's not just A vs B. There's also X vs Y vs Z and a kazillion other things. Anyways, I just look at this as evidence of why I'm a little uncomfortable about the major feminist movements--because maybe they espouse white feminism rather than feminism in general.

(Cross-posted at Syaffolee.)

Ladies, What The Hell Is Up?

You know, I've been in this business of solo-web-practitioner for six years now, and a couple of decades on the agency and enterprise sides before that, and I've had my say about what's frustrating and wrong with the web 1.0 and 2.0 gender divide, and I've stood up and yelled foul when it was not in the best interest of my career to do so, and I've found myself in the middle of some of the biggest Internet dust-ups of all time, but I never thought I'd have to write a post asking what the hell is wrong with you?

Not all of the ladies; of course not.

I'm talking about the ones taking advantage of the other ones. And they are numerous.

I've already done the disinfecting; I'm well aware that I'm biting the hand that feeds me here. So let me continue.

Here goes the general, sweeping observation. You tell me if I'm wrong...

When men -- male CEOs or marketing heads or agency leads -- look for help on social media projects from women-owned businesses and/or consultants who happen to be women, they do not come looking to put us through sixteen hoops, a dozen or more what-SHOULD-HAVE-BEEN-billable hours, months of hemming and hawing, and eight attempts at trying it themselves only to come back and ask 'what do you think?' all before signing the statement of work.

They do not as a rule take the ideas you give them for free in the course of detailed proposal work and run off to implement them with a 'maybe later on we'll work together!' They generally do not expect, ask for, or anticipate freebies or unpaid time on our part simply because their project is the most super-coolest-omgzbbq that you have ever ever seen.

SO WHY THE HELL DO WOMEN expect these things of other women?

Why do women in these same roles -- women who know their female colleagues are trying to make a living -- ask something of them that they would never ask of a male consultant in the same business? The female CEO who expects free help from her sister consultants would not think of asking her brothers in business for those same freebies.

Why is that? Because she would get laughed at? Ignored? Turned away? Not taken seriously?

Really--tell me why?

Did I miss the secret handshake class?

Was I sick the day they taught that women in business should give away free to other women what they wouldn't to a man?

Is there a rule somewhere that says only the men I do business with understand that I need to get paid?

I'm telling you, I find it more infuriating and frustrating than ever in the techmeme world of gangs and bangs and winner take all, we can't depend on the women business owners who seek our services NOT to do us a disservice.



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technorati tags: Women, Blogging, Social Media, Web 2.0, Advertising, Marketing, Technology, PR, New Media, Sales, Business
del.icio.us tags: Women, Blogging, Social Media, Web 2.0, Advertising, Marketing, Technology, PR, New Media, Sales, Business

Cross Posted to Allied.

Industry Experts and Thought Leaders O My!

What's Up Pussy Cats?

Like Right on Wright

To understand Dr. Wright's rhetoric and the reactions to it one has to explore the ways in which the white and black churches came into existence in this country. For the most part the white church in this country has roots in debating whether Black people even had souls. But the Black church grew out of the horrors of slavery and looked to God as a deliverer The Black church grew out of the horrors of slavery and looked to God as a deliverer from the perversions of that institution and later racialist social systems.



While the world has changed somewhat, as exemplified by the viable candidacy of Senator Obama, the effects of slavery continue to influence our society and our views of the function of religion in our daily lives. Thus, one should not be surprised there are different traditions of preaching and seeing the work of God in the life of the nation.

...more

Psssst. Pass it on Grants

Ladies,

Pass It-On Grants are for woman over 18 years old in all countries in or aspiring to be in the fields of computing. They are offered twice a year by SYSTERS Online Community, a program of the Anita Borg Institute for Women and Technology (http://anitaborg.org/initiatives/systers/).

If you would like to take advantage of this funding opportunity, the grant application form can be completed online at: http://www.systers.org/passiton-applicants. The application deadline is March 30, 2008.

GOOD LUCK BLOG SISTERS!

We will Miss Anita

It doesn't seem possible. As Shelley has said, Anita was such a presence in the web we knitted at the beginnings of blogging, it is hard to believe she is gone. I am so sorry - thoughts are with her husband and family.

Thank you, Anita, for showing us how it's done.

--

Daring Book for Girls - (and women too)

As part of the MotherTalk Book Tour, Jenna and I reviewed Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz's The Daring Book for Girls. Interesting that the first reaction of Jenna, whose ten years old, was that the cover and type looked old fashioned. At first she didn't want to read it because of that--a fact I'm not so proud of. After all, a little old fashioned culture is an inoculation against the Disney monopoly.

Far from old and boring, The Daring Book for Girls is an incredible guide for parents and children to explore together -- to find new adventures, little-known facts. Each chapter presented something we didn't know before, and that's a tall order for a book. Especially with two different age groups reading it.

From how to play gin to how to do a cartwheel to French terms of endearment -- Ma puce, or "my flea" for example -- you'll find just about everything a curious mind and body needs in this encyclopedia of coolness. Periodic table of the elements? Check. How to make friendship bracelets? Check. Games for slumber parties? Check. Women Explorers and a timeline for their accomplishments? Check. Making a flat scooter? Check. Sesquepedalian words? Check. Math tricks? Check. History of Women Olympics firsts? Check.

And a LOT more. For a taste of how much more, visit the book's website or watch the authors on The Today Show.

My favorite parts of the books were the learning activities and the games. I knew precisely NONE of the Words to Impress included in the book. I can now say, "Quit that echolalia!" and mean it! (Echolalia means repeating or echoing a person's speech, often in a pathological way.)

The back of the book best encapsulates the purpose of the book:

For every girl with an independent spirit and a nose for trouble, here is the no-boys-allowed guide to adventure.

I'd also add:

And... For every mom who wants to share
with her daughter
the coolest ways to be active, be smart,
and have fun.

The Daring Book is a hit at our house. (And if you're looking for a word to impress on your next job interview, call me first).

----

alberta tory

Crossposted at AlbertaTory:

"Finally, in nomination news, it seems that the Alberta-no-the-liberal-is-silent-Liberals are once again becoming a home for PCs who don't take losing in their own party so well.

Today, they announced that Debbie Cavaliere will run for them in Edmonton Meadowlark.

Aside from being a former Edmonton Catholic School Trustee, Ms. Cavaliere was also recently a contestant in the PC nomination for Edmonton Meadowlark. She was in the race right up until it became clear that there was no way she could sell enough memberships to win the race, at which point she quit.

Of course, the official spin is that she didn't find the party to her taste. Interesting. I wonder if she felt the same way when she was attending PC functions or door-knocking for former MLA Bob Maskell?

Amazing what a free ride to the ballot will make a person say, isn't it?
Ms. Cavaliere will face off against emergency physician Dr. Raj Sherman... the guy who sold enough memberships to win the race she quit.

The Edmonton Meadowlark race is an open one after one-term MLA Maurice Tougas decided that he'd rather be back writing his gossip column at the Edmonton Examiner."

Facebook Beacon Tipping Point

We are not social eyeballs.

New Book on Peri-Menopause++

I've had a delightful email exchange with the author of The Perimenopause & Menopause Workbook. Kathryn Simpson and Dale Bredesen have written a great, informative book for women dealing with the challenges of hormones.

From out of balance estrogen and progesterone, to thyroid and adrenal imbalances, to discussions on bioidentical hormones, the book is very informative and reassuring. If you'd like to talk with the authors, drop Kathy Simpson an email at Info AT hormoneresource DOT com.
--

Facebook Told Me It's Shelley's BIRTHDAY!

See, social media IS good for something!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHELLEY!!!

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Liquor License

The week in pop litter was painted in hope, desperation and folly.
Thank Sappho and her minions, then, for some good Lesbian intelligence.
As you know, I love news about Licker Licensees. First, we learn that local lez Portia di Rossi will soon go the growl with Joely Richardson on Nip/Tuck.
“I am a lesbian playing a lesbian,” she said in a radiant moment of self-awareness. Apparently, she and Ellen discussed the matter for some time and Portia realised that FINALLY it was time to stop HIDING her SEXUALITY.
Except, of course, that she hasn’t really. That’s one of only three things I know about her. The other two being (a) she was in that hateful program Ally McBeal and (b) according to an unreliable acquaintance, she’s a really good kisser.
And then, news surfaced that Pink might also be a hobbyist Muff Diva.
Do you care? Would it surprise you any more, than say, the SHOCK revelation that George Michael was gay? I don’t. And no it wouldn’t.
The thing that surprised me, erroneously as it turned out, is that she wed Corey Hart. Remember him? Sunglasses at Night?
This was from 1984 when, I imagine, a young Pink was yet to buy her first copy of Bodyweight Exercises for Buff Women.
There was no excuse at all for Corey Hart. I checked my vinyl to be sure. 1984 wasn’t a terrible year. In 1984 I bought The Go Betweens’ Spring Hill Fair, Lloyd Cole’s Rattlesnakes and Madonna’s Like a Virgin. I still listen to all of these records. No one listens to Corey’s woeful First Offense.
Some diligent googling reveals, however, that his name is Carey. Not Corey. And he rides motorbikes and sexually ambivalent popstars for a living. So, don’t be confusing them, ok?
Apart from this: britneyparislindsay. Couldn’t give a toss. Mais, J'attends novembre 25 quand je ne serai pas embarrassé pour être australienne. Vive le changement !

Hogwarts Kerfuffle

Ladeez:, puh-lease. Am I the only sister? Sup? In my efforts to keep this blog aloft -

Albus Dumbledore, wizard and avuncular defender of kiddies, is a Big Help to His Mum. Yes. The Hogwarts headmaster is, er, a head master.

Our source for this shocking intelligence is not, on this occasion, the pervie architects of Harry Potter fan fiction. It is in fact JK herself who chose to disclose Dumbledore’s preference for Deep House, tasteful lighting and cock.

When Rowling is not busy fashioning the kind of gaudy sentence that makes your authoress read like Hemingway by contrast, she’s Out There, apparently, sticking it to the man.

At New York City ’s Carnegie Hall a few weeks back, Joanne gave the fans the kind of minutiae they tend to eat up with a runcible spoon. Or, indeed, whatever the hell implement practitioners of the dark arts use to feed their unholy faces.

It seems, I’m told by my breeding colleagues, that JK’s info drip filter is emptied with great zeal. She could say, “Well, Snapes won’t sleep in anything but fretted linens. And he just loves the music of Spandau Ballet.” (Who doesn’t?)

Apparently, such mild revelations regularly afford a new lens for eager readers. It’s a harmless, job-creating fancy for all concerned. In this way, Rowling is much like a Cultural Studies Department.

However, I digress.

And so, it seems, do literally thousands of others. The last fortnight saw a relentless battery of headlines regarding this “story”. Wiki-reality has been transformed no less that 200 times in the last 24 hours. Bloggers, of course, are in a state.

“Why the hell should a children’s book have to include some idiotic political message?” asks one.

This incident will sell books. Maybe Rowling is not content to simply have more money that the Queen. Maybe she wants to actually purchase ER II as a mantelpiece ornament. Or, maybe she cares about The Gays.

Whatever her agenda, Rowling has now done much more than Out a fictional character. She’s given a whole lot of boring career pouffes something to crow about.

A gay spokesman told the BBC, “It's great that JK has said this. It shows that there's no limit to what gay and lesbian people can do, even being a wizard headmaster.”

And in news just to hand, Gay and Lesbian People have also earned the right to be thick and boring tw-ts. This is the sort of response that deters one from activism. (Well, that and laziness. And the chicks are rarely cute or well groomed.) This is why I turn a hostile shade whenever anyone calls me a Lesbian. Even when delivered respectfully, it is always capitalised and feels as though one has been awarded some kind of 25 metre muff-diving certificate.

As I'm sure you'll agree, enjoying sex is hardly a newsworthy achievement. Even for the founder of the Order of The Phoenix.

Slap Happy

Close your eyes. Assemble a brief register of Sexy Cynosures who need a Slapping. And now dare to tell me that Natalie Portman is not at the top of your list.
I have long despised Portman. Even more that I despise erstwhile hottie Scarlett Johansson for enrolling in Spin Class thereby losing her plush décolleté. (Damn you, Scarlett, and your inscrutable fondness for honing your assets. Once, you looked like Brigitte Bardot’s clever younger sister. And now, you look like Princess Anne.)
She’s just SO falsely uncontaminated. I imagine her cupping her ideal breasts in her perfect hands each morning and mouthing the words “You’re so much nicer than all those dirty girls” into her Lalique looking glass.
But, to paraphrase the great D Bowie, I got problems.
These problems, however, are not strewn about the marketplace so lavishly as hers. Portman, whose greatest role remains a cameo in exquisite shambles Zoolander, has made a new film. And if this news alone does not suffice to destroy your day, behold, the Princess Chagrin.
Apparently, she got her kit off in a new Wes Anderson short. (You know him. Plonker who keeps ripping off old John Irving plotlines re the Dysfunctional Underbelly of American Families. Tenenbaums. Snore. Bill Murray in a wetsuit. Snore.) Apparently, she regrets it.
Sometimes, says Natalie, “the most powerful thing you can do is say no.”
And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do to promote a puffed-up short film made by a middling auteur is to tell everyone you’re NEKKID in it.
I shall not convey the link to the mildly p-rnographic entertainment here as I believe it is every woman’s duty to locate her own smut. However, rest assured, if the remit of your filthy id extends to Portman, you can find her out-of-context and out-of-clothes on teh interwebs. You don’t need to queue at a dreary film festival.

Taking Out the Trash

Pitching one’s self into the whiffy mud of the populaire is, as you know, giddy fun.
And, let it be said, this week there are plot points of satisfactory quality INCLUDING a Britney Bad Mommy reprise.
However, it is with a leaden heart I offer a week’s digest of important debris. For I learned that we have all missed International Talk Like a Pirate Day. By an entire month.
There are few occasions not improved by means of a poor West Country accent. Next year, when my handicap is hovering at something below a parlous 89, I hope to be able to say,
“I made paaarrrrrr.”
Or, perhaps I could say to the peculiarly talented Amy Winehouse,
“You look terrible, east some Caaarrrrrbs.”
If you’ve not heard of this tabloid treasure, she’s a little like Courtney Love. Albeit with a far greater (a) faculty for substance abuse and (b) talent.
Recently dropped by 007 producers as the author of the next Bond theme song, the out-and-proud bulimic lost no time in getting herself arrested. In tolerant Norway, of all places.
Brava, La Spears. In a visual economy crowded with badly behaved young women, you again wail like a wanton diva. This Callas of crack must have done something awful. Perhaps she has become a public virtuoso on her flesh mandolin. Perhaps, under the influence of scrutiny or smack, she humped a fire hydrant. I dunno, do you expect me to read all this stuff?
I’ve been reading Ulysses for the last EIGHTEEN YEARS, so why should I endure anything more than the gist of this nonsense?
Anyhoo, the Los Angeles Superior Court has suspended the mother’s rights to visitation. Which is sad. Of course.
However, we must remember that Britney is a carbon metaphor for the profligate United States and not an actual person.
She’s not real.
If you don’t believe me, skype her and ask her to repeat Descartes’ dictum.
Which, of course, you’ll recall is
Cogito AAAARRGO Sum
Only another eleven months until International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

How NOT to Market Tampons to Women

Okay, maybe you're not a woman. But you don't have to be a female rocket scientist to figure out that the advertising you've seen recently on T.V. for Tampax Cardboard (yes, you heard right) is a very dumb example of branding for many so reasons, two of them quite obvious:

1) Tampax applicators have been cardboard for at least the 30 years I've been using them.

2) When I make my list of words that evoke feelings of comfort, absorption, and security, cardboard is way down at the bottom of that list.

I think Tampax might have gotten a clue that the new Cardboard campaign is going over like a lead brick (possibly the only material lower on my comfort list than cardboard).

If you look at the google cached images from the Tampax site, you'll see a couple product images with the new "cardboard" theme, and some images with the word cardboard. But when you click on them, the images magically transform to Tampax's Pearl branding (aaah, pearls).

Business should be wary when Great Marketing Minds invade the conference room suggesting that a re-branding or branding upgrade will help "move the needle" in terms of product sales.

Especially if they come in using the word "Cardboard."

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technorati tags: Tampax, Tampax Cardboard, Product Marketing, Marketing, Advertising, PR, Tech, Not Social Networks, Old School, Branding, Business, Bloopers

OMGZ it happen.

AKMA begatz Shelley begatz the LOLcat Bible:


²⁰Invisible Man say, “I can has fish n’ birdz.” ²¹Fish go in water, birdz go in sky. It good. ²²Invisible Man say, “make lots little fish and little birdz. Fish make fish in water; birdz make birdz in air.” ²³It get dark again, then lite: day fife.

²⁴Invisible Man say, “I can has aminulz.” It happen. ²⁵Invisible Man make kitteh n’ cowz n’ snakes n’ stuff. Iz good.

²⁶Invisible Man say, “I can has man that look like me.” He rulez. ²⁷Invisible Man make man like him, boy and gurl. ²⁸Invisible Man tell man, “ur in mai Earth, pwnz0rz mai aminulz.” ²⁹And u eats fruitz. ³⁰Aminulz eat greenz.

³¹Invisible Man saws creayshunz: iz good. It get dark, then lite: day sicks.


;-)
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technorati tags: lolcat, akma, shelley powerz, relijun, invisible man, I can has fish n’ birdz, social humor, soshul networkz, hee hee, tech, advertising, business, marketing
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Facebook - Child's Play?

Kara Swisher has a great post on the immature nature of Facebook apps. See, here's the thing: immature and silly is really fun at first because it's fun-ny at first. But once you've filled a few fake fish tanks, posted to a few groups, planted a few pretend gardens, and caught a few hot potatoes, you start wondering if you might be spending that time billing or planting real gardens with your kids.

Kara says she's done burning brainpower on whether or not to catch spuds:

Right now on Facebook, I have been trying to decide what to do near on two weeks or more, after receiving a “Hot Potato” tossed to me by my old boss, Washington Post Co. CEO and Chairman Don Graham (oh, yes–his family also owns a key hunk of the legendary paper, too).

For those who don’t know what a digital Hot Potato is: It is a widget (also called a third-party app) created by a very nice-looking group of guys at a design outfit called Hungry Machine for the Facebook platform.

She says she gets it. I think she does get it. I get it too. You get it, right?

I'm all for stupid things. Hell I sometimes AM the stupid thing. I can even manage some guilty giggles for an imaginative group name even when people around the world are dying. But there is something toddleresque about these kewl apps that feel very much like a child who does something cute, thereby eliciting uproarious laughter from his relatives, so then he keeps doing it until you're so sick of him that you want to toss him like a hot potato.

Kara asks: "...if that is all there is, can Facebook really build a viable and long-lasting business on what is essentially a bunch of games that will ultimately become wearying for users? Doesn’t it need more robust apps that actually are useful and relevant and make Facebook the service that Zuckerberg has often told me was a 'utility'?"

I believe with all my heart that play is the killer app of the Internet. So I'm all about the proliferation of just-for-fun widgets on Facebook. But I am also expecting more. I'm expecting to be able to accomplish as much on Facebook as I can on the net as a whole. I expect to be able to share and collaborate and engage and generate STUFF. Because the most productive form of playing is making stuff.

But a gazillion people can't be wrong - and Facebook is definitely the "in" social network. As much as I try to forget about Facebook and spend more time being productive, I do get pulled back in a few times a week.

After all, I have fish to send, Scobles to feed, and a garden to tend to.

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technorati tags: Facebook, Social Networks, Kara Swisher, Fun, Internet, Technology,Business, PR, Marketing, Widgets, Web 2.0, Web 3.0
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