Here is why the Vanity Fair take on the New Yorker covers isn’t actually satire:
All of the points they are making in it are true. McCain IS really old. Cindy had a drug problem. They WILL burn our bill of rights. They WILL seek to extend the Bush Presidency and they probably are fist bumping terrorists.
the state of the world
Ian asked me to write something about this article, but I just cant pull to utter any word but, ew.
A purity ball? Fathers exchanging charms with their 4-year-old daughters? Then giving that charm to the girl’s future husband?
I CANNOT WAIT until the one on the right gets knocked up by the time she’s 16, the little one turns into a lesbian, the one in the middle because some goth chick and the one on the right becomes some father-hating progressive feminist blogger
the stages of love
My friend Lisa has these theories about the stages of a relationship. As first, I laughed a little about them and was like, “um, yeah, whatever Lisa.” But then started to see that they are, indeed, kind of accurate. When I went to France last year I found a bracelet that essentially articulated the exact concepts she created. And you know what they say: If it appears on French jewelry, then you know it must be true.
In a nutshell, here are the Stages:
- Who is this guy? (Getting to know each other)
- This is too good to be true… (When is the other shoe going to drop?)
- So…maybe he really IS just a really nice, great guy. (I’m becoming a believer)
- Okay, he might be wonderful, but he’s not perfect. (No one is!)
- Do I like him more than he likes me?
- We’ve admitted our insecurities and been reassured
- It’s true, I am totally in love. (Wow)
So, right around now I bet you expect me to talk about my relationship with Boy in the Middle East [side note: he comes back today (hooray!) and I am going to have to think of a new name for him… suggestions?] and where, in the stages, we fall. WRONG! I am talking about more of a long-term relationship: Mine with Barack Obama.
Not to play out like some sort of Obama girl video, but we met way back in the hot summer of 2004. I was just another girl working at the convention. He was the featured speaker. Our eyes met, we shook hands, I read his policy platform. (Stage 1)
We entered into Stage 2 around the Iowa causes, on his way to New Hampshire. We reached Stage 3 on Super Duper (dumbest name for a day of the week ever) Tuesday and have been going strong ever since.
When the primary went on FOREVER and people started being/continued to be ridiculous sexist we entered into Stage 4. I realized that Obama wasn’t going to ride into town and defend all women everywhere, but I was confident that he is the best candidate for women. Stage 5 hit me like a rock when he started backtracking when talking about choice and FISA. I’m worried that we’re permanently stuck at Stage 5
Barack, Barack, Barack, do women voters like you more than you like them? Are we yet again going to be put in a one-sided abusive relationship with a man who sees us nothing more than just a donation check or a vote in November? Are you really going to do nothing on choice, and easily embrace the political centrism you once so brutally rebuked?
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t take my crazy pills this morning and I am not going to join some women for McCain group or something. I get that if McCain is elected President I am going to be chained to an oven: barefoot and reproducing. However, if you and I don’t start moving onto Stage 6 pretty soon, Barack, count out my donation, phone-banking or canvassing skills or even my true endorsement.
104 members of Congress do not consider me to be a baby vessel
The other 431? They arent so sure…
Also, loving HRC’s comment on the issue:
“The more I learn about these rules by the Bush administration, the more appalled I am, and the more determined I am to stop them. This is a gratuitous, unnecessary insult to the women of the United States of America. These rules pose a dire threat to women’s health, to health care providers, and to uninsured and low-income Americans seeking care. It is a disgrace, but unfortunately, it is not a surprise.”
spencer explains the internet to me
- Spencer: tag
- Spencer: http://attackerman.firedoglake.com/2008/07/22/musicmemed/
- Joy: wait, why?
- Spencer: because that's how memes WORK
- Joy: explain to the internet illiterate, please?
- Spencer: ok so there is something called a "meme"
- Spencer: it is an internet game -- answer a certain question, and then pass it along to five friends
- Joy: and now I have to answer it?
- Spencer: yes
- Joy: and pass it along to 5 friends?
- Spencer: otherwise the internet will be mad at you
- Joy: ahhh, je comprende
- Joy: and I tag 5 people, not including you?
- Spencer: that's right
- Joy: also -- I don’t think I know 5 people with blogs
- Spencer: HAHAHAHA
- Joy: yeah
- Spencer: you are fucking AMISH
- Joy: I know. I have the bonnet and everything
- Spencer: i could never live your life
Können Sie langsamer sprechen?
Dear German Next-Door-Neighbor:
I had a really shit day today. So shit that when I came home tonight the only thing i could think of to make me feel better was taking a long, hot bath. I even used the good bath supplies. You know the ones: the kind with the salts that… fizzle.
As I got into the steaming hot water and waited for those little fizzy salts to evaporate in all the right places, my shit day started to float away. For the first time in three days, I didnt feel like I was in the middle of a panic attack.
That is, until, you decided to have loud, graphic German phone sex.
Let me tell you something: German is not a calming language. Nor is it exactly the language of love. And thanks to the fact that I spent a good amount of my high school experience having Frau Pantesco drill German verbs into my skull, I had a basic understanding of what you were saying. And, well, ew. Never again do I want to hear how you’d like someone to bread your schnitzel.
The fact that you then knocked on my door looking to see if I had a cell phone charger you could borrow just makes me think the universe has it out for me.
Oh, yeah, we hired someone.
This should be fun.
Oooh, Mr. Spencer Ackerman I cannot believe you didnt tell this to me before I read it on Balk’s tumblr. What. ever.
and I'd name him sparky
Momma: Your father and I are thinking of getting a dog.
Joy: Really? Suffering from empty nest syndrome?
Momma: You know how some people get dogs in lieu of children? Well, we like to think of this as dog in lieu of grandchildren.
I like politics, eating good food and drinking half-a-glass of wine too much. I'm also a grammar nerd to the extreme -- I've even been known to break up with people who dangle their prepositions. Be warned!
Have a question? E-mail me at: joy[dot]engel[at]gmail[dot]com
