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Also, there were a couple of recent threads that I only paid passing attention to.
Didn't mean I wasn't furiously googling Christina Hoff Sommers and other prominent contemporary feminists, though.
Ran across this old article that I thought I'd share.
But none of them make out with goblins.
A bit old, but I don't closely follow news from our fair neighbor to the North:
Down with the criminalization of prostitution!
Celestial Healer wrote:
I am wrapping up Moby Dick. I didn't just read it straight through, but have set it aside occasionally to read some other things as well. I was not expecting so much overt homoeroticism. I think Ishmael is the most foppish seaman in the whale fleet.
Sometimes two men sharing bed while looking for sperm is just two men sharing a bed looking for sperm.
I finished The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and finally started The Turn of the Screw
"Okay, I'm very sorry, my sexual problem, okay, my sexual problem, huh?"
"[Stutters] I never read that. That was- that was Henry James, right, novel? Sequel to Turn of the Screw?"
I read Marriage and Love by Emma Goldman this week,
Goin' all stream-of-consciousness, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, who probably rubbed shoulders with Emma back in the day, but I can't be sure, was once asked by a bourgeois journalist whether she believed in "Free Love" to which she replied, "As opposed to what? Slave love?"
Goblins do it in the streets!
I'm reading The Swords of Lankhmar in the second-volume of a two-volume semi-omnibus (no Knights and Knaves, so there will be no 55th sentence from page 55, I'm afraid.
In lieu of which:
"With a happy roaring shout that only he could hear, blood rushed through the Mouser's arteries toward his center, reviving his limp manhood in a mere moment, as a magically summoned genie offhandedly builds a tower."
Hisvit is hawt!!
Feeling better about those love letters not being answered now? :)
Comrade Anklebiter wrote:
I got a call from Omar the FAT the other day. "I've got good news!" he exclaimed. "What, are you going to marry that girl from ol' Blighty that you met on the Council of Ex-Muslims website?" "No, no, it's better than that, you'll never guess."
So, a couple of days later, Omar and I finally get together. "Blackmoore's dead!" he says, with a big smile on his face--Omar always hated Lord Blackmoore--"And I've got a bottle of champagne!" "Man, that's harsh," I chided, but then Omar convinced me that Lord Blackmoore would have wanted us to drink to his death, although, probably, not in celebration. Turns out Nazi Doodlebug had been idly googling the internet and discovered an obit for him from last year.
Anyway, we spent the night reminiscing about all the crazy shiznit we used to do when we lived with Lord Blackmoore.
The story that Omar liked the most, which he hadn't heard before, was when Lord Blackmoore started dating a woman who taught hip-hop dance at the East Boston YWCA. They were both into kinky shiznit, and, one night, Lord Blackmoore entreated me to film them having sex.
I refused. Not because of any prudery on my part, but because I had absolutely no interest in seeing him and his woman rut. He got angry and tried three or four different arguments to get me to comply. I told Omar one of the lines and he immediately posted it on Facebook as his virtual tribute to Lord Blackmoore. I'll get back to that in a second, but, later that week, after I had refused, I woke up one morning and found the refrigerator covered in Polaroids of his girlfriend performing fellatio on him.
Anyway, the line that Omar loved so much was, I think, the second or third line of argument that Lord Blackmoore employed to try and persuade me to play Director of Photography:
"What?!? You think you're a Bohemian and you won't even film me having sex with my girlfriend?!?"
[Pours one out in memory of Lord Blackmoore, may he rest in peace]
The story that I heard, from a guy who was looking it up on the internet, so you know it must be true, was that the honeymoon was a vestige of kidnapping your wife and bringing her back after she was pregnant and there was nothing her family could do.
Like I said, though, I couldn't say.
You know, I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I can never accentuate the positive, why I am always drawn to the worst, ugliest aspects of you disgusting pinkskins.
But in my spare time from acting as a propagandist for Hamas, Putin, and international proletarian socialist revolution, I've been doing some disturbing reading on wikipedia.
Apparently, there is a theory, true or not I couldn't say, that the ritual of the honeymoon comes bride kidnapping.
You pinkskins really are disgusting.
I can't say that I am extremely well-versed in trans issues, but there has been a spat between some radical feminists and trans activists for a while now.
And now, for your delectation: radical feminists vs. trans activists.
I didn't even bother to read them because I'm not a feminist, but I also remember there also being a flap with Julian Vigo suing Jacobin. I'll go look for that in a second.
That being said, based on sci-fi references in the titles, I have to say, Vigo's Le Guinism totally smacks the shiznit out of Adam's tired Star Wars crap.
Yeah, I've read those two, also the one he did with Chris Hedges that got the latter accused of plagiarism.
The Lahiri stories are nowhere near like what we're talking about. Mostly gentle, domestic stories about dreams and love and family and so on.
They made a movie of one of her books that I saw but didn't read. It's got pretty much the same feel.