Posted in Television

On the Tube


I’ve had a lot on my mind, so very little on my blog lately.  Lack of content doesn’t mean lack of activity.  Stress squeezes shut the word flow, but I expect I’ll be back to my usual yackity self in a week, or so.

I started watching Once Upon a Time over the weekend, and am nearly finished with Season One.  I love all things Ginnfer Goodwin, so this was going to be a win for me anyway, but I found myself surprisingly fond of Jennifer Morrison.  I couldn’t stand her on House, and she really annoyed me on How I Met Your Mother, so I wasn’t expecting to like her here.  In fact, she’s what kept me from watching the show sooner.  This character suits her well, and I find myself thinking that she’s really a great actor.

Claire Danes is another who has never impressed me much, but whose acting has won me over on Homeland.  I’ve liked Damian Lewis for a long time, so watching him wasn’t going to be an issue, and I will never turn down Inigo Montoya.  I expected to be eye-rolly and full of haterade for Danes.  Nope.  I have been so delighted by her acting that I want to invent awards just so she can win them.

Downton Abbey has been bleak this season, and I am so sick of the Bates/Anna storyline that I’d like to see the Spanish Flu come through again and put them out of my misery.  Bryan feels the same way about the Gillian/Cathouse storyline on Boardwalk Empire, which is making me very uncomfortable this go around.  I don’t like Nucky-the-Gangster.  I like Nucky-the-Conflicted-Nearly-Gangster.  I do like Margaret, but since I ship Nucky/Margaret, I am unhappy at their state of affairs. 

When is Rome coming back on?  I could use some Jeremy Irons mugging.

 

Posted in Advice, Television, Uncategorized

Boardwalk, Boobies, and Biology


B and I started (and caught up completely with) Boardwalk Empire recently.  Aside from the gore and non-stop parade of boobies*, I really enjoy the show.  It has a) the most beautiful costumes on television, b) the most beautiful hair on television (Kelly MacDonald, I’m talking about you), and c) one of my all-time favorite actors and weird crushes, Steve Buscemi. (He won me over with Ghost World.)

*Parades of Boobies made me think of this:

The other night, B mentioned the potential for a new law in Saudi Arabia, forcing women with pretty eyes to cover them up. [Story here, and also worth mentioning how romantically B brought the story up, after having been gazing into my eyes…hee!]  Ladies with “tempting” eyes could be forced to hide their peepers, in order to keep men from lusting.

Worn for your lustproof protection.

I was trying to think how we could help these men, because if eyeballs are enough to jimmy their johnsons, then the shape of a woman’s head in her veil might do the trick too.  What I came up with was a version of the old Karate-Kid-in-a-shower costume, where the ladies wear halos of metal that start above their heads, enshrouding them in dark cloth that falls to their feet, and does not touch their body at any point.

Rather than the shower head, they would have a periscope for navigation.  That way, a man would never have to be tempted by any part of the woman.  Granted, there will always be the trollops whose gait makes those shower curtains sway alluringly, so there really isn’t a fix at all.

My modest proposal is that the men who find themselves affected by lust, whose own eyes offend them, should pluck out those eyes.  The problem isn’t the ladies, boys.  The problem is you.

And, the problem is repression.  When you ask people to pretend that they aren’t AT ALL interested in having sex, you are asking people to deny an innate need and function.  Sex, like eating, sleeping, and pooping, is a biological imperative.  And just like eating, sleeping, and pooping, sex can be fantastic fun, or even boring with awful repercussions.  It’s just a thing.
There is nothing wrong with wanting to do it.  There is nothing wrong with doing it.  You just have to be intelligent about it.  You don’t eat rat poison pellets, you don’t sleep on railroad tracks, you don’t poop in the refrigerator, you don’t have sex indiscriminately or without protection.
Because eating/sleeping/pooping can’t get you (or anyone else) pregnant, you do have to take some extra precautions with sex. My advice is this:  Only have actual sex with someone when you can afford to have and are okay with the idea of having babies with them.  Be sure they feel the same way, otherwise, it can end up being a lifetime of poop in the refrigerator**.
If we allow ourselves to feel biological impulses without glorifying or denying them, then we are a lot less likely to try to quash all triggers.  When you have a healthy idea of sex and sexuality, then a girl with pretty eyes is just that:  A girl with pretty eyes.  When you are unhealthy, she is a devil woman, just trying to tempt and trap you with her long, luscious lashes.
I’d like us all to be healthy.  In private, of course.
**Ultimate “poop in the refrigerator” scenario to me is getting pregnant out of wedlock, then having to share custody of an infant child with someone I wouldn’t even want to date.  Can you imagine how awful that would feel?  It’s bad enough taking your baby to daycare, but you know you are paying those professionals to keep the baby healthy.  I cannot even imagine having to turn my child over to some yokel every weekend, who may, or may not remember to feed him–or might not feed him on purpose.  Or worse.  Guh.  I can’t stand the thought of it.
Don’t do things that can get you (or anyone else) pregnant if you aren’t in a steadfast, committed relationship with a sane, consenting adult.  Be sure about that sane and consenting part, because babies have a way of turning the best people into melted down wax versions of themselves.   There are plenty of other ways to get your rocks off.