I’ve often wondered whether Nobel Prize Winner Aung San Suu Kyi would have risen to global fame (and a Nobel) if she hadn’t been beautiful. Yes, people think about these things. Well, you knew that. But some people talk about them, too, which is slightly more fraught.
John Molloy, the guy who wrote all those Dress for Success books in the early 80’s, said there was a greater correlation between the monetary success of Harvard grads and their height than there was between their success and their grades. We perceive good-looking people to be not just more attractive, but more intelligent, more diligent, and more moral than their homely peers. Those who listened to the Kennedy/Nixon debate on the radio felt Nixon had won, while those who saw it on television felt almost unanimously that Kennedy had trounced Richard “Flopsweat” Nixon.
And all this is not to say that she (and Kennedy, and those lanky Harvard grads) don’t deserve what they’ve gotten; it’s rather to say that beauty is power. And sometimes it’s hard not to resent that. While I’m glad to see it put to use for the cause of good here, how often has it been used to slip something by us that we should have stopped? How often, on the global stage, have we been desensitized and made victims by the presence of sheer physical beauty?
Today I don’t have any answers. I just hope I’m asking the right questions.
Deep One by Christopher Burdett: although in conversation she could be quite shallow
Shocking video evidence of the survival of a colony of Dagon-worshipping Deep Ones just off Leblon Beach, Rio de Janeiro. Also shocking video evidence not all Brazilians look good in a bikini.
And YES I know we’ve been all about the videos lately, but what can I say? YouTube has been particularly awesome lately, what with dead squirrels, Yellowknifers, and gravity-bedevilled gilled monstrosities of the deep.
David Davis possesses only one name, really, and really only half a haircut, since halfway through it he decided to pick up some scissors and stab a passerby in the back. Then, instead of settling down and letting the barber finish, he ran out without so much as tipping. WHAT kind of kids are we raising nowadays?
Well, that’s when the police were tipped off that there was a human before-and-after picture running around the neighborhood, and that they should pick him up.
David Davis, of Cedar Hill Avenue, New Haven, was arrested shortly after the incident when Stamford patrol officers and a police dog found him in a nearby Henry Street apartment. Officers took him into custody when they initially found he was wanted on a warrant for failing to appear in court and later charged him in the stabbing after an investigation, Stamford Police Capt. Richard Conklin said.
We are, of course, far more concerned with the crime against aesthetics than that against the unnamed stabbing victim. But enough of what we think: what do you think?
Love the new look, baby. Don’t worry about hiding out from The Law; with a ‘do like that, ain’t nobody gonna be looking at your face anyway.
Many thanks to the lovely and apparently multi-multi-talented GDGeek, whose resume now extents past graphic design into hairdressing and even espionage (second-hand)!
And this looks like as good a time as any to get rid of another link dump. Sorry (not really) for the lack of new posts; I’ve been off speaking at WordCamp Victoria and setting up the new schedule for my social media workshops (there’s a special discount code for up to $100 off if you register by noon Monday; ie tomorrow).
Meerkats. Behind every conspiracy theory of the last two thousand years. Fucking meerkats.
Yes, I’m in a bit of a mood, and my internal editor who whispers “perhaps you could rephrase that in a more positive way, perhaps by deleting the word ‘motherfucker'” is AWOL until I get my strength back, and yes, I’ve been insulting people’s cats left and right (I don’t think they mind, actually, but HELLYEAH the people sure do, even though I’m pretty sure cats can’t read, except Abyssinians), but even so I’m not sure I have enough bitter gall within me (impacted or not) to do justice to the following video.
This is the Christmas song for people who consider Enya “bad*ss.” And spell it that way.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is “The Christmas Shoes“. Apparently there’s also a tv special, and what they put in it to stretch it out to an hour is anyone’s guess, because basically what you’ve got here is dumbed-down O. Henry run through a White, Middle-Class American Who Admires Black People Especially Oprah and That Other One, Oh Yeah, the President, filter. Production values by Vaseline, Inc.
Yes, that sentence parses, by the way.
I suppose, now that I’ve pondered awhile and self-medicated with repeated viewings of Christmas in Hollis, I suppose I can find it in my worldview to picture a meaningful, even beneficent, role for this song: as an emetic, to bring sweet release and relief after a toxically-enthusiastic consumption of holiday treats. To that end, I present the lyrics, downloaded from (where else?) CowboyLyrics.com.
It was almost Christmas time
There I stood in another line
Trying to buy that last gift or two
Not really in the Christmas mood
Standing right in front of me
Was a little boy waiting anxiously
Pacing around like little boys do
And in his hands he held
A pair of shoes
And his clothes were worn and old
He was dirty from head to toe
And when it came his time to pay
I couldn’t believe what I heard him say
Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there’s not much time
You see, she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus, tonight.
He counted pennies for what seem like years
And cashier says son there’s not enough here
He searched his pockets franticly
And he turned and he looked at me
He said Momma made Christmas good at our house
Though most years she just did without
Tell me Sir
What am I gonna do?
Some how I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes
So I layed the money down
I just had to help him out
And I’ll never forget
The look on his face
When he said Momma’s gonna look so great.
Sir I wanna buy these shoes, for my Momma please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there’s not much time
You see, she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful,
If Momma meets Jesus tonight.
I knew I caught a glimpse of heavens love as he thanked me and ran out.
I know that God had sent that little boy to remind me
What Christmas is all about
Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there’s not much time
You see she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight
I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus tonight
raincoaster 