Fish Knives

“Americans who travel abroad for the first time are often shocked to discover that, despite all the progress that has been made in the last 30 years, many foreign people still speak in foreign languages.”

While quoting Dave Barry is always an exercise in sheer comic bliss, here he has put his finger on something eternal, something existential, something irritatingly true.

And that is, other people are so terribly, awfully … other.

For one thing, they understand the gibberish with which they speak to one another. Whereas I, a proper English-speaking person, fail to see any difference between their babblage—however mellifluous (en Francais) or, as is the case far more frequently, just plain strange—and the language my sister and I made up on the spot, on long boring car rides. Complete with hand gestures. Never understanding, of course, a word that was said. Continue reading “Fish Knives”

Special, Not Special


As a result of the blending of reality and fantasy, some women have chosen to willingly play along by a new set of rules in order to keep their men interested: They’re intentionally impersonating porn stars. Sadie, a real-estate agent, says, “A lot of guys have come to expect P.S.E. [the “Porn-Star Experience”] as a common thing — snatches waxed bald, access to every hole —and plenty of women are more than happy to provide. A few might enjoy it, but for most it’s harrowing. I think there’s a fear that if they can’t make it happen, their boyfriend will retreat online.” New York Magazine

Continue reading “Special, Not Special”

The Dying Thing

dylanOh, right. Blog. Entries. Write. Timely. All this stuff to remember. I get so caught up in my own reading or in reading online of the various crises that sweep the web—and then there is real life, a blurry distinction if ever there was one. I feel like such a traitor to the San Francisco Chronicle, which was for so many years such a great read in the morning, a daily magazine almost; now this thin, flabby thing is thrown upon my doorstep that is so much easier to skim online. Continue reading “The Dying Thing”

Lady Chatterley

Lady Chatterley

I’ve been watching old movies late at night, bits of which come up again and again, as I flip channels and the movies are repeated. In this way, eventually I piece together a whole. Or actually look at the listings and, quelle horror, watch the thing from beginning to end. Which is not remotely as interesting, especially if you’ve gotten good chunks of the film under your belt. Continue reading “Lady Chatterley”

Women Are

Society has let its girls down in every possible way. It has refused to assert—or even to acknowledge—that female sexuality is as intricately connected to kindness and trust as it is to gratification and pleasure. It’s in the nature of who we are.  — Caitlin Flanagan.

Who is just terrific. Reading her Atlantic archives has been like devouring a plate of fudge.

Real fudge. Starting from scratch, using a candy thermometer, beating it like hell. Grainy parts and smooth parts and watch out it doesn’t burn you—but it will. You greedy little fucker.

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