Thursday, November 03, 2005

Skinny Little Hill 'O Beans

Are we all not getting close to burnout on the whole Maureen Dowd/Battle of the Sexes thing? While terribly clever and brilliant, I think Ms. Dowd is acutely bored with her work, and thus suffering from an overly-active imagination that is busy conjuring a gender-war where no gender-gap/war/discomfort level really exists. Or does it?

Maybe MoDo should try writing children's books. That plan worked great for Ms. Rowling; she even ended-up with a #2 marriage and a Gulfstream. Such a fairy tale ending, especially since it's one that reeks havoc on Dowd's assumption that successful women cain't get no man.

As for MoDo, I don't think she's even had a go at mucking-up that critical Starter Marriage. Heck, girl just want somethin' she ain't never had before. Who would fault her for that? Gettin' stuff we ain't never had is the fuel that powers (pronounced "pears" if you're talkin' W) 'Merica - the place for 'Mericans to live and work and be empowering, free too. (That's the W-speak coming out. Repeat most of last sentence in W now. He says "cain't" beddern' me.)

Now if grown men could stop porn-a-tizing themselves into an anesthetized cultural stupor, then maybe we could figure this gender thing out - together. In the meantime, I'm brushing off the ancient S.C.U.M. Manifesto for a good time 'round the McMansion. Hilarious!

Did a drive-by through Atlantic Station in the 'hood this week. Ugghhh. It reminded me of a hastily constructed backlot set for a disaster movie; lots of narrow streets brooding in shadows cast by nondescript buildings looming over them. I expected to see a tsunami come blasting through the constricted corridors. I had no desire to stroll about; just run away.

Then there was the parking horror -- huge, gaping holes like wounds on this cheapo movie set, inviting a look downward into the frightening depth of endless parking levels and rape-a-toriums below, with prison-like fencing wrapped around the ugly concrete gaps up at steet level. I got a similar sensation of dread while touring Ground Zero last year. I drove out of the contrived hell as quickly as I drove in.

CONTEST: Be the first to tell me in a comment who wrote/sung this entry's caption, and the actual song title, and you could very well win something.

No comments: