Thursday, September 24, 2009

oppressed women

I thought of a good idea for non-fiction book today. Actually, I thought of it a while back when I watched Seven Brides For Seven Brothers at Brad and Allison's apartment (a hilarious movie that should prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that white men can dance).
I wondered if women were any more oppressed than men in the pre-1900's. The party line is that women had to toil and scrub at home while men got to go out and lead this exciting life. Men could be abusive to their wives without recrimination from society, and women had no way to escape a bad husband.
Is this real, or is it just a view exagerated in the movies and by authors like Kate Chopin. We often answer this question by looking at the plight of women, but I'd be interested to know the plight of most men. I don't know if there's any way to explore this topic. I do know that Mr. Murdstone in David Copperfield is obviously a villain for oppressing his wife and that Aunt Betsy is far stronger and freer than some of the male characters in that book like Mr. Micawber. Does society frown on Bathsheba Everdene for owning a large plantation and presiding over men in Far From the Madding Crowd? Of course, these books were written by men, but then there're the Brontes and Jane Austen. Anyway, I'm just wonderin'

NEXT: Are weapon's dealers really corrupt and evil?

Friday, September 11, 2009

The drawbacks of facial hair


So I've had very bad running experiences the last two days. My legs feel heavy, my lungs feel tight, and I just don't have any energy. Some might say that I am simply paying the price for all the cocaine I've orally ingested over the last several years, but I think it's this new beard I've grown.

Just as Sampson gained strength from his hair, I think my hair saps me of my vitality which makes me reverse Sampson. I've gotten many compliments from the ladies about my facial hair, however, so I guess I'll keep it and hope that I don't have to slay any armies with a jawbone or rip the doors off of any fortified cities.

...which makes me realize there're some really strange Sampson stories...but that can be for another post.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ouch!

Well here I'm going to make yet another attempt to start blogging again. Hopefully, this will be more successful than my attempts to quit kicking puppies and robbing grannies.

In the past, I have often lamented the lack of a passion. Well, all that changed the other day when I bent over to pet the dog and bumped my head on a chair (I still suspect the dog may have intended this to happen!). Now, I have a scar on my head. If I'm lucky, I will be like Captain Ahab and the scar will turn white hot when I get angry. If I'm unlucky, I'll be like the Elephantman and have to wear a bag over my head to hide my ugliness from the world.

Back to my passion. My passion is to not bump my head any more. Of course the easy solution would be to cut off my head and put it in a safe, but I decided against that and turned to alternate solutions.
First I tried a headband with springs on it, but then I realized if I ever needed to head butt someone in a fight (which happens alot), he (or she) would bounce harmlessly backwards. Next I tied lots of stuffed animals to my head, but once again, this hampered my headbutting abilities (I want to be able to head butt in case that dog tries any more funny business). Finally, I settled on one of those old-timey diving suits. Sure it has its drawbacks...the saying,"He's about as popular as a fart in a diving helmet" means a lot more to me now. But at least I'll be saving face with the ladies. Think how dumb I'd look with a bag on my head!