Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Some links... or whatever

I've fallen a bit behind on my blog reading due to actually having work to do, and thus my blog writing inspiration has fallen quickly into neglect. Also, I'm still waiting for my upped dosage of Prozac to finally kick in, and I've been lacking much motivation beyond just willing the time to pass more quickly for a while now.* So, everything's coming up dandelions. Though I do have more sweet presidential blogging in store for tomorrow, so get excited. Or at least start thinking about getting excited. But so since I'm lacking the ability to create my own content, I will point you towards some good stuff other people wrote: -The awesome (published! Have book, reading and review forthcoming. Someday.) Amanda Marcotte points out the injustices being wrought on America's prison population. Apparently risks of mail-borne "terrorist" substances warrant keeping prisoners from receiving mail on anything but postcards (I believe this is in Texas). We don't let these people vote, and now they can't even get letters from their families? What if their kids drew them pictures larger than a postcard? How are they supposed to carry on affairs with women who look for prisoners in the personal ads? But seriously, the way we treat people who have been convicted of crimes in this country is obscene. Luckily, as a middle-class white lady, unless grad school doesn't work out and I'm forced to turn to a life of crime to survive, I'll probably never have to go to prison. And that's kind of the problem. It's so easy to believe that chipping away at prisoners' rights doesn't affect the freedoms of non-convicts. But it's all part of the same oppressive system. So write Uncle Jim that letter on a series of twelve postcards (hope he gets 'em all!) and enjoy receiving your free American mail, for the time being, anyway. Prison looks askance at stable source of human dignity. (Pandagon) -At Shakesville, William K. Wolfrum responds to claims that he has anger issues. Choice quote: "I was once a fisherman. That's right, a fucking fisherman. I brought home food. I'm a fucking hero and anyone who has a problem with how I express myself can fuck themselves." Read the whole thing for more LOLs.** "Listen assholes, I don't have a temper problem, got it?" (Shakesville) -MENSTRUATION. Just wanted to get all the squeamish boys off the pages so us girls can have a chat. No, not really. I hate how many grown men are "grossed out" by periods. I mean, bloody tampons are kind of icky, but some of them freak out if they even KNOW you're bleeding. As if acknowledging a biological process will somehow rub off gross girl germs on them.*** But anway, M. LeBlanc at Bitch Ph.D. wrote an awesome post about periods and the constant social pressure to pretend we don't have them. Sometimes you've just got to be frank about how shitty you feel and why, and I think if we were more honest about these things, there wouldn't be so many misconceptions about how PMS works, etc. Anyway, I'm also glad to give a shout-out to another ex-Mormon so go read it. Coming out of the menstruation closet (warning: features possibly NSFW picture of someone's ass). (Bitch Ph.D.) *Is this information awkward for other people? Wait, this is my blog, I don't give a fuck. I think it's best just to be upfront about these sorts of things. Mostly I apologize for being lame; I'm working on it. **This rhymes with "rolls," (duh) like the bread. Mmm, carbs... ***Remember the fucking menstrual blood scene in Superbad? Yeah, it would be gross to get someone's period blood on you, but I'm pretty familiar with the biology and physics of menstruating, and there's NO FUCKING WAY a chick could get that much blood on your leg without it soaking through her own clothes (apparently she wasn't wearing underwear or any sort of tampon or anything) and have it dripping down her legs. I mean, COME ON. Another reason I would have liked that movie a lot more had I ever been a teenage boy. I realize this scenario is incredibly unlikely and represents misogyny at its dumbest.

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