So for the past 2 1/2 days I decided to take a break from all social networking sites. It was pretty amazing because I got more writing done in those two days than I have in the past two months…seriously! The first day I felt like I was detoxing from crack!
I can honestly say the only bad thing about staying off these sites is that my tumblarity went from about 1,200 down to about 900. God damn tumblarity!
Tumblarity: the bitch-mistress of social networking.
Matt “Motherfucking” Yglesias dropping cold hard truth.
It’s times like these that I wish I could be as unselfconscious a propagandist as certain older relatives of mine and spam everyone in my e-mail inbox with copy/pasted pieces. Instead I’ll settle for posting it on Tumblr where no one, I’m pretty sure, will disagree with a word.
I did not finish my NaNoWriMo project in November, and haven’t touched it since. It’s okay. I got more fiction writing that I’m not completely ashamed of done than I have in ten or fifteen years. In the coming year, I’ll have remember to create space in my weekly writing regimen for fiction.
(And good God is it going to be a regimen. My handful of followers will probably want to rethink that decision come January. Fair warning.)
Every year I forget how great hot chocolate with Bailey’s in it is during the winter months, and have to rediscover it all over.
Just found out about it again tonight. Mmm-mmm-mm.
(Also, if anyone reading this also happens to listen to Never Not Funny, OH MY GOD YOU GUYS.)
The extravagantly-muttonchopped author of this 1904 treatise on human sexuality, W. H. Walling, A.M., M.D., was professor of both gynecology and “electrotherapeutics” — and I think we can safely assume he combined the two disciplines to great effect. I know next to nothing nothing about this book, which I picked up several years ago at the late lamented 26th Street flea market. But I have turned to it often for entertainment and edification. The chapter “Masturbation, Female” is invaluable. O, that it were as infrequent as it is monstrous — amen!
Click through for totally awesome scans of the book in question.
I’d give a reason for my nearly week-long absence, but
1) I’m pretty sure no one much cares, and
2) I don’t have any good stories to tell anyway.
Instead, let me simply make the observation that catching up on a week’s worth of Tumblation went by surprisingly quickly, even given the POP CRITIC DRAMA that apparently erupted a couple days ago. Nothing expands in the mind like something avoided.
Which reminds me, I still have a paper to write. See you later.
It’s sort of sad that “Buffy” has ruined all other vampires for me. And it’s doubly sad that kids today are stuck with the lesser “Twilight.” Get the Buffy box set! Though Buffy does turn her boyfriend evil after sex… why must vampires be such prudes?
Ah, but it is established on Angel that it’s not just sex, but “a moment of true happiness” that he happened to feel after sex with Buffy that one time, that turns him. (One of the few redeeming qualities of Angel, aside from it being awesome trashy fun to throw on mindlessly at night, is that they try to do a bit of damage control for what might be seen as a “sex kills” sorta metaphor in the Buffy/Angel relationship. If Angel had been on Buffy longer, I’m guessing they would have dealt with it, but I think the creators wanted to be extra sure they weren’t accidentally promoting some pseudo abstinence argument.)
As much as I like Buffy, my earlier years of reading Anne Rice and Bram Stoker make those vampires seem heretical. Vampires don’t drink booze. Vampires don’t have sex because they don’t have heartbeats or pulses (to make engorging happen). Two vampires cannot get together and make a baby, even if that baby grows up to be Pete Campbell.
Too old-school even for Rice here, my interest in vampires falls off round about Lugosi — but my thing was always if you have at your disposal such a perfect metaphor for the fear of sexuality, why muck it up with actual sexuality? Like some dreary Soviet dramatization of The Wizard of Oz in which the Scarecrow is Agricultural Labor and the Tin Man is Industrial Labor and the Wizard is Capital — why bother using symbol and metaphor if you’re just going to talk about the thing itself?