.WL.: the clothes don’t make the (wo)man April 4, 2009

.authored by something.of.substance.

(originally posted on WL 9/21/08)

This year’s Primetime Emmy Awards had five hosts, all reality television hosts and all nominated for their hosting skills. Talk about having to sing for your supper. Among the hosting hosts were Heidi Klum, former Supermodel and current face of “Project Runway”, and Tom Bergeron, the new Bob Saget of “America’s Funniest Home Videos” (a show I had no idea was still running!). The opening shot featured all five reality narrators appearing on stage together, in a row and sporting the same black suit, white button-down shirt and skinny black tie. Even Heidi Klum had a fitted version of this classic male staple.

.everyone, still clothed.

After running through a terribly unfunny dialogue, all five turned their attention to William Shatner and Heidi’s suit. Confused? I was. I’m not certain why William Shatner was worked into the opening skit, but he was called out, walked up on stage and began bickering with Tom Bergeron, the only male host remaining center stage with Heidi, about Heidi’s suit. Below is a rough paraphrase of the conversation:

William and Tom: “We thought you’d be wearing less clothes!”

Heidi: “I wanted to be one of the guys and I wanted to wear what everyone else was wearing!”

William and Tom: “But, we want you in less clothes!”

End of discussion.

Commence with William Shatner pulling on Heidi’s clothes from one side and Tom Bergeron pulling on them from the other. Amid Heidi’s prostrations, they literally ripped the suit off her body to reveal a low-cut, tight, sparkly black hot pants / sleeveless top number underneath. Just what the Emmy Awards needed: every man’s proverbially fantasy and every woman’s proverbial nightmare.

.WL.: fuck “fake” April 4, 2009

.all natural.

.authored by something.of.substance.

(originally posted on WL 11/11/08)

I’d like to make an announcement: it’s time to retire the term “fake”.

No, I don’t mean you have to give up fake to describe things such as the chicken in Kentucky Fried, Pamela Anderson’s boobs or the orgasm you had last night. Fake as a retrospective of personality, however, needs to go.

Before I go any further, I would like to present “fake” as defined in the Urban Dictionary:

“if your bitch moans and looks you in the eye its fake”

“Sometimes applied to people who are accused of being something they are not. See poser.”

“A person, the vast majority of the time a female, who acts too nice to be real in order to lure in pathetic dopes and use/betray them, frequently crushing the victim’s soul in the process. Symptoms of fakeness include wearing a huge, phony, Botox-looking smile the entire time, saying “Hiiiiii! How are you!” a lot, using an overly sweet tone of voice that’s so dripping with sap it makes you want to vomit, and just generally being overly perky all the time. A fake chooses her victims very carefully, usually very naive individuals, waits until the victim has divulged their deepest, darkest secrets, then spreads them all over the school and makes sure the victim is absolutely miserable. AVOID AT ALL COSTS.”

It certainly goes without saying that all of these definitions represent a slang use of the word and not the legitimate dictionary definition any of which usually reference fraud or counterfeit items or practices. If that’s true and we can apply “fake” to refer to people’s fraudulent or counterfeit personalities, how would we really, genuinely prove such a thing?

.who’s to blame?. February 15, 2009

.authored by something.of.substance.

.pass the buck.

This just in: an airplane crashed; something went wrong. In the latest example of this all too familiar scenario, Continental Connection Flight 3407 crashed into a Buffalo, NY house killing fifty people. Almost as soon as the iced over plane went down, the news began relentlessly reporting every tragically inane detail. The de-icing system was activated. No birds were involved. The plan nose-dived- wait- flat-bellied into a house. And, the latest announcement, the plane was flying on autopilot which was, in such weather conditions, against some airline policies. Depending on the situation. What started out as an un-biased accounting of a tragedy soon turned into a blame game. Someone needed to be responsible. Someone needed to be at fault. This person, speculatively, is the pilot. I think he learned his lesson.

.in memorium.- taking up the reins February 15, 2009

DISCLAIMER: Those pieces contributed to Something.of.Substance do not necessarily reflect the views of the author or of the community. However, they are Substantial to the contributor, adhere to the guidelines and give everyone Something to think about. -S.o.S

.contributed by Lo.

I work for a small company.  The principal managers have been working with an outside broker, Mary, for 30 years.  I met Mary a year ago, but immediately realized she was the type of person that always puts others before herself, which most people, including me, struggle to do.  A really good person.  I sent her the pictures taken at our company Christmas party in December, and she emailed back to say I looked radiant and asked what I used on my skin…we emailed back and forth about skin care and the importance of girl talk.  Two weeks later, I received an email that Mary had died of cancer.  I was really shocked, because she hadn’t told anyone she was ill.  I wasn’t even a close friend, but she touched so many lives in meaningful ways, I was deeply saddened by the news.

.conservative or short-sighted?. February 13, 2009

DISCLAIMER: Those pieces contributed to Something.of.Substance do not necessarily reflect the views of the author or of the community. However, they are Substantial to the contributor, adhere to the guidelines and give everyone Something to think about. -S.o.S

.contributed by Lo.

I was introduced to Southern conservatism at the age of 17, but didn’t quite understand it then.  I was branded “Liberal” for wanting to know the facts post-9/11, before launching into full-scale war with whoever was convenient to blame at the time…”those Muslims!”.  (Which group, what country, where or why…didn’t seem to matter).  I began to understand the difference between liberalism and conservatism.  I am now acutely aware of differences in ideology, and encounter them frequently.  Charles Darwin is often vilified at my [Texas] church for his outrageous suggestion that organisms, and even humans, are the product of evolution.  Some 25% of Texans, pre-election, believed that Obama is actually Muslim.

."he said", not "she said".

The other day I was talking to a work colleague, who was bashing Obama’s stimulus plan, saying that McCain’s was far superior.  I wasn’t terribly concerned, because I don’t claim to be an expert on the stimulus plan, so I didn’t have a strong opinion.  I did, however, e-mail him an article which suggested that FDR’s New Deal was, in fact, responsible for initially lifting us out of the Great Depression.  He didn’t agree.  That’s fine, but he finished his email by saying that his biggest problem was that Obama condones the killing of the “inconvenient unborn” by millions.

It seems so easy for men to sit around and decide what’s best for women, their bodies, and their reproductive health…  Below is my response to my colleague:

“I also don’t agree with your biggest problem with Obama:  I think women should have a choice regarding what happens to their bodies, particularly when it involves health issues.

.under pressure. February 9, 2009

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article is one in a series of “True Life: I’m in Law School” contributions written by a second year law student for her school newsletter. She intends it to be an insider’s view into the academic and social world of law.  Because her newsletter is published quarterly holiday season but is still clever reading for the next one coming around.

.contributed by Twinks.

True Life: I’m In Law School

In a land far, far away, the month of December represents a time of love and happiness. Family and friends gather to celebrate Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza, birthdays, and/or engagements, fireplaces are warmly glowing, and family recipes are baking in the oven. Forlornly, in the land of law school, the month of December represents doom and torture. Students are over-stressed, over-caffeinated, underfed, and lacking sleep all in the name of finals. You, the student, swore you would be better prepared for this month, and wouldn’t fall into the trap. Nevertheless, you still did. In this edition of True Life, we’re going to help you, the student, ring in the New Year (better late than never) with three Law School Resolutions that will hopefully help prevent the downhill tumbles and pitfalls of this encroaching finals season in April/May. So stand up, raise that glass of champagne (or coffee if your currently studying), and get ready to re-toast in the New Year with True Life: I’m in Law School.

.watch.- Sunrise Earth February 8, 2009

.authored by something.of.substance.

.greet the day.

I am the first to admit I don’t “do” mornings. I used to be more inclined toward late-night living but, as I get older, I find myself waking up earlier and earlier. However, that doesn’t mean I’m always happy about it. Take the weekend before my birthday, for example. Like most days not requiring me to stumble out of bed unnaturally early for work, I lifted one drowsy eye only once the glare of the sun off the snow was strong enough to penetrate another odd dream. I had dreamt of celebrating my twenty-sixth birthday at a zoo where all of the animals spoke and sat around a table with party hats and my ex-boyfriends were in cages. When unconscious, I’m something of Freudian disaster. Yet as the sun infiltrated the rather spirited singing of “Happy Birthday” by a polka-dot sporting giraffe and company, the sun shone reveille.

My clock read 8:17am. Talk about sleeping in.

Dragging myself from the tea kettle to the couch, I flopped down to wait for my water to boil. There I sat, mindlessly flipping channels and wondering what the hell I eat every night that generates the “down the rabbit hole” experience in my subconscious when I came upon a nature program with no narration. None. And, even more amazingly, no commercial interruption. The visually-displayed content of this show was void of human-manipulated storyline. What was left was a time stamped scene of a single sunrise filmed from different angles.

.truth in advertising?. February 8, 2009

.authored by something.of.substance.

.rock of bust.

I have known for some time that ad agencies don’t always have my best interests at heart. They tell me I’m fat, promote alcoholism, push marriage to a “perfectly compatible” match, laugh at the length of my eyelashes, and shame me into thinking I need to rid myself of all my gold jewelry for cash and clean the house more cheerfully. They tell men to enhance their erectile tissue, spontaneously regenerate hair (on their heads, only) and immediately purchase a sporty new luxury gas-guzzler. The point of advertising is to sell something to you or me, Mr. and Ms. American-Materialist-Consumer-Beast. Our job is to watch, develop a neurotic need and keep the capitalist train rolling.

Advertisers at-large have no problem telling me who they think I am…or should be. According to the commercials aired during the shows I DVR (to watch at my leisure or sometime in the middle of another insomnia-ridden night) I am most likely a single sci-fi aficionado in need of both the number to both a gay chat line and a distance-learning program (not to mention the time the next episode of Battlestar Galactica airs). I am offended by these suppositions of my character. Liking “The X-Files” doesn’t categorize me as a sci-fi superstar any more than watching trashy celeb-“reality” shows on VH1 speaks to a supposed void in my IQ. In fact, it was while gleefully taking in this anti-feminist trash that I was truly insulted.

.legal love. October 18, 2008

.contributed by Twinks.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article is one in a series of “True Life: I’m in Law School” contributions written by a second year law student for her school newsletter.  She intends it to be an insider’s view into the academic world of law.

True Life: I’m in Law School

As we grow older, a common quest we share is the quest for “love.” As indicated by the quotation marks, each individual’s interpretation of love is quite different. Regardless, it is within our human nature to desire companionship. Law students are no exception. In this addition of True Life, we’re going to investigate the whimsical views of finding love in law school, and the actual reality of love in law school. So sit back, snuggle up with your current “love” interest, and welcome to True Life: I’m in Law School.

We have all heard the stories: your girlfriend found her current boyfriend/fiancé in undergrad; your boy fell victim to the curse of the high school sweetheart to whom he will shortly propose marriage. Half of you, hearing these stories, are filled with a sense of hope that the same could happen to you. That hope is invigorated by the knowledge that your entrance into the real world is delayed three or four more years by law school; law school now becoming your new playing field. The other half of you simply roll your eyes, deeply sigh, and emphatically brush off the horrid idea of love and, even worse, being tied down. Welcome to the classic dichotomy of love and relationships in law school.

When you, the law student, are in the market for companionship, you will notice you have the choice between an old-fashioned, exclusive relationship and a serial dater who refuses to settle. The contrasting options are not an indication of someone’s level of promiscuity (though, that will often be a popular topic of gossip), but rather an indication of someone’s current level of commitment and emotional capacity. The question then becomes, is this person a monogamist or serial dater?

.warning: voter disenfranchisement-in-progress. October 7, 2008

.authored by something.of.substance.

.silenced by slight-of-hand.

The state of Ohio requires one to apply, by mail, for an absentee ballot. In the electronic age, this process seems cumbersome at best and foolishly liberal with your personal information at worst. An absentee ballot was what I required, however, and I was determined to obtain one. While waiting for the rather slow-moving .PDF file to load and print, I checked out other areas of the Board of Election website. Were I in-state, I could easily find my polling location online as well as any number of telephone numbers to assist me with all my enfranchised needs. Still waiting for the application for an absentee ballot to load on my overloaded computer, I decided to check my “Voter Registration”. Clearly this function was designed for those newly registering; I had been registered since early 2002 (at least). I had voted in both Primary and General Elections for the state of Ohio. I proudly utilized my right to vote. Seeing my name displayed on the webpage was only going to excite me more for this next election!

I searched my name, last name first. Nothing in my county of residence. I searched my name in my old county, last name first. Nothing. I searched for my name in the state of Ohio. Nothing. I searched just my last name and found my family registered at my old address- without me. I didn’t exist as a voter! I had been disenfranchised!

Trying to quell the panic in my voice, I hastily dialed the Board of Elections in my current county of residence, F. County. I was greeted by a kindly sounding woman who attempted to search for my name, but was cut off by a dropped signal on my cell phone. Where is that pervasive Verizon network when you need them? I call back and get a different woman with a harder tone and distinct warble to her aged voice. She roughly informs me that the voter registration deadline in Ohio was yesterday and so I “should have checked sooner”.