Something Almost Intelligent About Gender and Sexuality, Or, Thanks a Million Andrew Sullivan

Let me start this by saying that I love me some Shakira. I got turned onto her probably in high school Spanish (before her first English album). I generally prefer her material when she isn't trying to be Top 40 or get her videos on MTV (I understand that's the nature of the beast, but I have a kind of snobby streak when it comes to music), but her music is kind of like pizza - even if it's not the best thing in the world, it's still pretty good and I'll probably take the opportunity to have another slice. Which is to say that I will get a copy of her upcoming album She Wolf when it comes out next month.

The eponymous lead single falls squarely into chart hopeful territory, which I don't mean in any derogatory sense - in my book, Shakira + disco strings = WIN. And if you like the ladies, the video is pretty awesome (I can't embed it, so you'll have to click the link). Does such a display cheapen the artist and enforce stereotypes that female artists have to be sexy and revealing?

So I was just over at The Daily Dish where Andrew Sullivan had posted a fan made remake of the video called "He Wolf." Behold! (But seriously, you should watch the original first.)



Now click on the video and go to it on YouTube. Notice something that wasn't there on the original video's page? Hint: it's the tag that says "This video may not be suitable for minors." Is it a double standard for gender roles? Does the fact that it's a man writhing within a cage in next to nothing automatically create a homoerotic subtext?

So thanks a million, Andrew Sullivan. Not only did you almost ruin the song for me, but you made my head hurt.

Fighting and Biting and Riding On His Horse

Today was my first 5k, and I survived with a time of 29:23. The route required us to go up a big damn hill (and I kicked some ass going up), but then we got to go back down (at which point I kind of hit a wall, so I wound up doing a little bit of walking). The tunes in my Jim Carroll Memorial 5k playlist could have been somewhat better arranged (mainly, "Loosen Your Tie" by the Remus Lupins (yes, they're a wizard rock band, but whatever - you should seriously listen to it, seriously) should have been put later in the playlist, when I'd be more in need of a super awesome boost), and it got hot a lot faster then weather.com predicted so I did a little roasting in long sleeves, but I made it through(and passed a guy that used to run marathons at the end, woo!); I also beat my sister by about a minute.

I was something of a sad panda because my Cheeto eating support team/fan club didn't show (a bad combination of not setting alarms and getting caught up in cleaning), but there's always next time - and there WILL be a next time.

Also, I'm not very good at treachery and deceit judging by the game of Diplomacy we played last night - please try to contain your surprise. High five to Jon, who wound up winning the game Mark Travis-style by more or less sneaking in on the rest of us while we were busy fighting amongst ourselves. I can think of a couple of people that would probably be hella good at the game, too bad (or maybe thank goodness) they're 300 miles away.

Wicked Gravity

I read the news today, oh boy: poet and punk rocker Jim Carroll passed away in his home in New York on Friday. I can't offer much in the way of eulogy; really I'm just a random person that got turned on to his music. Even so, I'm a little bummed- this kind of sad news always seems worse on top of a lousy situation.

Thanks for the music, Jim. Here's hoping you found that world without gravity, and that it was indeed just what you needed.

I Feel Love (Aaaah), I Must Be In Love

One of my favorite shows on the teevee is Mad Men. I started watching it when it started, am pretty jazzed that it's back for a third season. If you aren't watching it, get on it - you'll thank me.

A recent episode had a scene where Joan (played by the lovely Christina Hendricks who most of you would remember as YoSaffBridge on Firefly) played the song "C'est Magnifique" on the accordion. Redhead bombshell that plays the accordion and sings in French? I think I've found my ideal woman.



Yes, please.

Hump Day Happy Hour - The Cars

Oh no, is this a new wave kick I'm on? I don't know, but I feel like posting some Cars awesomeness so we'll just have to see if this trend continues. In finding the video for "Dangerous Type," I bounced over to a cover of the song by Letters To Cleo, which was apparently used in The Craft, and then to a video of Beavis and Butthead talking over LTC's "Here and Now." Thanks for the timesuck, YouTube!

Anyway, not only did The Cars make some kickass music (see the entirety of Candy-O for further awesomeness), they make me feel attractive. Also, I don't think I was aware that Gibson made a Flying V Bass, but now I want one (so thanks a million for that, Benjamin Orr). But enough chit chat, let's go.



I want to touch you, or are you out of touch?
Regis

I AM THE CHAMPIONS, 3-Day Novel 2009 Edition

And the hard part is over. I pulled into the last period at 11:55, leaving myself a comfortable five minutes to spare. I feel really good about this one, gang. It clocks in at 19,600 words (that includes the title page, but whatever); my 3-Day Novel from last year wasn't even 16k. The ending makes sense (at least as much sense as a story rife with parallel dimensions and time travel can). Even though I never did use the Robot Gillian character (my brief description of her was "she's a robot, yo!"), I'm pretty proud of "Davin and the Suspension of Disbelief."

Guh, my brain feels like mush. I'm finishing this beer and going to bed.

-Regis

Stay On Target...

Five hours to go, sixteen thousand words written, and I think I've finally figured out where this is all going. My mind is feeling strangely squishy, but detailing how parallel realities and time travel connect to a story about anthropomorphic undergrads will do that. Hey, there's an interdimensional tear in the wall, and it feels like orange gelatin. Don't fall in!

23 Hours To Go

Quick 3-Day Novel update before I catch some shuteye: I'm currently sitting a little more than 10,000 words, which is roughly two thirds of what I managed to churn out last year, and this after a highly unproductive Sunday (I've had a hell of a time focusing today, and taking care of an ailing mother in the absence of both my father and my sister isn't exactly helping). But the setting up the pieces is pretty much done and the action is rolling. Clones are attacking Laramie, rabbits are swooning, 90 Shilling and Dead Guy Ale are being drunk, and the Iron Cock is living up to his name. But most of all, I'm having fun, and that's the important thing.

As tough as today has been, the last day tends to be both really hard and ridiculously enjoyable. The deadline looms large, and no idea is too crazy to be thrown on the page, regardless of whether it sticks. It's probably going to come down to the wire, but that's just fine with me - it's no fun if it's easy.

Almost... there,
Regis

Here We Go Again

It's Labor Day Weekend, and that means one thing. Okay, it means a couple of things, but the big damn important thing it means to me is the return of the International 3-Day Novel Contest. Once again, I'm abusing my muse in pursuit of fortune and glory. This year's story is going to be pretty silly, what with anthropomorphic rabbits, ducks, and beavers; a horde of idiot clones; and visitors from both the future and parallel universes. Mix in a robot, beer, and D&D and it's bound to be fun, even if it becomes a trainwreck.

Time's a-wasting, so I'm done here. Check back for updates and events warrant.

-Regis

Hump Day Happy Hour - Elvis Costello

Frak this economy and the horse it rode in on. Is it still hump day if you don't have a job? Whatever, I don't really care, so here's an early Elvis Costello track, "Watching The Detectives."



I get so angry when the teardrops start,
Regis