Weekly Thought Archive

Here is where I post my bi-weekly thoughts. Read. Enjoy. Catch-up on my life. Click here for the newest update.

(1/20/02) I was in the movie theater today to see "Black Hawk Down". I'd been looking forward to seeing it for quite a while, and I wasn't disappointed. It was a really fast-paced, chaotic film, yet enjoyable to watch... but it wasn't as good as the book, in my opinion. (In the beginning, one of the American characters misuses the word 'genocide', which is always very irritating to see... I could go-on for an hour about my opinions on misuse of the word genocide.) Anyways, there's this one bad-ass Habr Gidr militia guy in Ray-Bans whom you see at several key turning-points in the film. He was the closest thing there was to a villian, but (as always) he looked much cooler than any of the heroes. When you first saw him, he was standing on the back of an armed pickup truck with a bullhorn. He gives the order for the truck's machine-gunner to mow-down a crowd of civilians clustered at a Red Cross food-distribution center, shouting over the bullhorn "This food is now the property of Mohammed Farah Aidid!". The instant I laid eyes on him I knew he had "Bad Mutha" written on his undershirt. Or the Somali equivalent of the phrase. At one point, when he's rallying the troops to ambush U.S. forces, he brandishes an AK submachine gun over his head; in that scene, you can tell he's about to kick some serious ass. Mentally, I was rooting "go, Mogadishu! Go!" Oh, I'm naturally not celebrating the death of American soldiers in the line of duty, I'm just saying the movie portrayal of this particular villian made him look cool.
One disappointment: the goofy-looking guy who played Stuttering Airman in "Pearl Harbor" played Hard-of-Hearing Soldier in this film. I hope he's not getting type-cast as comic relief. And some highly relevant things were mentioned in the book but not in the movie: such as the missteps that eventually made Mogadishu residents hostile to the U.N. and that many of the Somali militia were hopped-up on a narcotic called khat half the time.

Anyways, one of the previews before "Black Hawk Down" started was for "40 Days and 40 Nights". It's a romantic comedy about a guy who accepts a bet to give-up any and all sexual contact for 40 days, including masturbation. So, naturally, this becomes a sensational deal. People start placing bets on him... posting updates on him on the I-net, and basically making a huge spectacle of it. And, his female friends and co-workers found-out- so they predictably began to put-on all sorts of sexy shenanigans to lead him into temptation. I was sitting there, watching this trailer, thinking "what's the big deal?? At any randomly-chosen point in my life, I haven't had sex in months!"
Seriously. I don't get it. How much sex should I be having? When a guy goes forty days without sex, it's somehow a huge deal? I mean, if I were to publicly tell all and sundry that I was going 40 days without sex or masturbation, half of them would say "too much information" and the other half would say "kudos and huzzah to you, my tasteless friend" and that would be the end of it. They wouldn't place bets or make web-sites about me. And certainly no women would attempt to lead me astray in the meantime with sexy shenanigans. Women don't care enough about me to do that. There's no way in hell a celibate guy could attract that much attention.

Hey, howabout this? Starting today, I'm going 40 days without sex OR masturbation and let's see how many women come-on to me? I'm gonna tell ALL my friends and co-workers about me doing this to advertise the fact as obnoxiously as possible. I'm 100% serious about this. No sexual contact until March 2nd. Remember to return in 40 days and see what happens... Oh, and whatever you do ladies, don't try any sexy shenanigans like emailing me nude pictures of yourselves by clicking here. Especially don't do it if you have pert, shapely breasts- I'd simply hate to be tempted into masturbating. Results will be posted March 2, 2002!

(1/31/02) I saw the Presidents' State of the Union address on tuesday night... in one bit, the entire room stands-up to applaud the widow of Mike Spann (the CIA operative who died in an Afghan prison uprising. In fact, he was bludgeoned and bitten to death.) Okay, and I'm thinking 'what the hell does she deserve to be applauded for?? I mean, she didn't do anything at all! She sat at home, yet she's getting national recognition for being married to a martyr?!' I mean, come on!! Why does she deserve more glory than she ever got at any other time in her life strictly by virtue of her husband's risk-taking?! Her husband is obviously more valuable dead than alive, as her ego is being assured. We all sympathize with her; poor thing. Maybe the whole point was to honor her husband's death, but everyone in the Capitol stood to applaud her. Maybe if Bush had asked for a moment of silence to honor those who died, that might've been a bit more on-target... am I the only person who felt a conceptual problem at work? Ugh, I'll put that thought aside because it's truly futile to obsess over it... I'm probably totally out of line saying this sort of stuff.

Oh well, 30 more days to go before the next bout of sexual self-gratification... I've made it a point to avoid seeing lingerie ads in the newspaper. (Results will be posted March 2, 2002.)

(02/08/02) Yesterday, I decided to send an email to Gabrielle (Number Seven woman). By luck, I spotted her email address while looking through my old university's online directory, and I was a bit surprised to see her there after almost three years. So... because I'm an idiot, I decided to send her an email. It is as follows:

"Hey there... I know that you probably don't remember who I am (well, I hope that you haven't forgotten about me...) anyways, back in 1999, I moved out of town- that's when I think I last saw you.

I just wanted to write and say hello... I got your email address from the university directory (I hope it doesn't freak you out that I've written you...) I'm moving to a new job in Japan in March, and I'll probably be there for God knows how long. A year, perhaps more...

Anyways, I just wanted to say hi... Believe it or not, I care about your well-being.

I promise that if you don't write me back, I won't send you any more email. You don't have to feel obligated to return this message, it's totally optional. If you don't feel comfortable writing me, then by all means, I understand. (No insults, please.)
Anyways, wishing you the best -- NiceGuy."

So, I was being polite- in actuality, I hoped that she's out of her mind with misery. But, by Jiminy, I got a reply the next day! It is as follows:

Hi NiceGuy! How are you? Talk about a blast from the past :-)

Yes, of course I remember you. So, it seems like you have been having quite an adventure since we last spoke huh?

I owe you an apology... You wrote me few emails that I never responded to... And more importantly, I owe you an apology for the way I ended things between us. I hate making excuses for myself, so I won't and I will say I am sorry. (Holy late-apologies, Batman! -- NG)

I was going through some really bad times at that point, none of which seems all that appropriate to discuss now. I'm happy to note however that things are much better now and I'm much happier. (Like I actually give a shit about her well-being! -- NG)

I graduated in 2000 and started law school the same year. I had hoped to leave town, as you have but for many different reasons I ended up staying for few more years. So, I am in my second year of law school, loving every moment of it.

So, you are leaving for Japan? That is a great move for you. Anyway, I am glad to hear from you and I do home we can keep in touch, Gaby.

Holy cow. She... she's actually apologizing for being an abrasive eater of souls! *Shakes head* whoa dude. I didn't think she was capable of feeling guilt. Well, to tell you the truth, the less contact with her that I have, the less of that dull ache in the back of my heart that I'll feel. Parting is truly sweet sorrow for me nowadays. I also hope that in the past 3 years, she's seen an orthodontist and gotten a boob-job (because, frankly, she needed both).

Oh, by the way- starting today, Captain FreeTherapist is officially going on strike until further notice. (Huzzah?) That's right, the next time a bawling female acquaintance tries to leech sympathy out of him, Captain FreeTherapist will patiently listen to her sobbing, and then say: "Well, that's 'cuz you're a stupid whore, aintcha?" And hang-up the phone. I have a feeling that not too many 'just friends' women will call him while he's in Japan- they'll just have to find some other sap to harass in the interim.

(02/18/02) I watched a movie last night: "Tortilla Soup", starring Hector Elizondo. (I like Hector, by the way. He always looks very classy. Just something about his overall look. The neatly-trimmed beard, his wardrobe... I wish I could look as good as he does when I'm his age.)

Anyways, the movie was basically about a Mexican-American household. The mother had died some years before and Hector was the benevolent patriarch: an unflinching bedrock upon which the lives of his three daughters rested. His loneliness for his wife was softened by the interpersonal connections he enjoyed with his daughters and the children of his daughters' friends. He was also a professional chef- but with age, his senses had been dulled to the point where he could no longer taste or smell. He would always create these incredible-looking dishes, but he couldn't enjoy any of them or even test them while he made them. He cooked on instinct. Much of the story focused on the interpersonal lives of his individual daughters, but all of them would gather-together in a common room for information-swapping when Hector would cook for them as a sort of reality-check.
So I'm watching this film, and I'm thinking- hmm, in 1995, didn't I see a Taiwanese film directed by Ang Lee called "Eat, Drink, Man, Woman" that was more or less the same exact story? (Well, "Yin, Shi, Nan, Nü" was the original title, at least.) I watched "Tortilla Soup" a bit more... yup, this story paralleled the Taiwanese film almost exactly 100%! It couldn't be a coincidence. The story of the American movie matched the earlier Taiwanese one almost perfectly. And I perfectly predicted the ending, because I knew what would happen.
The names and places within "Tortilla Soup" were different, but the character types were pretty much the same. As were their personalities and interpersonal struggles. Well, there were some differences: in the Taiwanese film, one of the daughters was a devout Christian (that aspect made her stand-out as being a little bit unique in a Taiwanese film. Near the end of the film, she convinces her new fiancée to get baptized.) but conversion to a new faith wasn't an issue in the American version.

Anyways, I guess... the main male character in both films was such: a dignified guy who was there to support his daughters through thick and thin. He was the constant around which their lives could achieve stability. No matter what happened to his daughters, they could always come to him for support... no matter how in the wrong they might possibly be. The males were generally portrayed as warm, big-hearted folk. They were positive figures with strong, deep characters. Although half the females were portrayed as emotionally complex and kind people facing the difficulties of real-life, the other half were a little bit nutty but were still accommodated because they were friends or family.
I later checked online- Ang Lee collaborated in writing the screenplay for "Tortilla Soup". That confirmed it- this sort of movie had to have been based on a non-American story! It was a delightful departure from the shop-worn 'men are awful, women are angels' family-centered dramas that we see everywhere nowadays... Oh, I shant spoil the end for you, though...

On a different note: a friend of my dad bought a brand new computer for his office, and he asked me to drive-over and set it up for him (because I have a reputation of being good at that sort of thing). It was an insanely simple job. I plugged the keyboard and monitors together- less than 20 minutes of work that almost any moron could do. And in return, he gave me... his old computer. A Pentium machine, 32 megs of RAM running Win95. About five years old- it wasn't an awesome machine, but it was loaded with Office97 and it was perfectly suitable for basic home use, like writing papers or stuff like that. But not suitable for any good games. Gee, wonder what I'll do with it? Well, if I had a girlfriend who didn't have a computer, I'd probably upgrade the processor and memory and give it to her as a present. But no- no such thing will ever happen because no woman will ever touch me with a 20-foot graphite baton. I guess I'll make the monitor into a damn terrarium or something. Feh!

Oh, and I'm still on my last 10 days of my 40 Days Without Sex or Masturbation. No problems in sight so far. Maybe I should've aimed higher? Maybe I should've set-out for eighty days without sex, or six months without sex. That would've been more of a challenge, I suppose- but not MUCH more of a challenge.

And Gabrielle (Number Seven woman) who I corresponded with by email last week invited me to dinner with her. I'm really divided on whether or not I should go... but I said I'd go with her if I could fit it into my busy schedule. And my schedule is actually pretty busy- I'm trying to get as much time with family and friends before I leave the country, so that's not a lie. I have more fun things to do than sup with a woman who unceremoniously kicked me to the curb nearly three years ago.

(02/26/02) I've been having a lot of no sex lately. Only 5 days until I'm allowed to get sexual release. Gee, it'll be nice when that happens.

To get my mind off of sex, I've been trying to prepare myself for life in Japan. Of course, I've been watching plenty of Godzilla movies- I think I'll be fine if I don't spend too much time on Monster Island. (And, of course, the secret of summoning Mothra to do your bidding is to find a pair of four-inch tall singing girls in a sandalwood box.)

So, one of the books I've read in the meantime is Ruth Benedict's "The Chrysanthemum and the Sword." If you've ever read this book, or if you ever intend to read this book always remember: it is anachronistic. It was written in 1945 and was considered to be the first modern anthropological look at the rules which Japanese society functions by. (Note: also keep in mind that this book makes an overview of the rules, not necessarily how Japanese people actually live. There are sometimes creative ways of circumventing Benedict's rules.) I say it's the first modern anthropological look at Japan, because Ruth is clearly inspired by Margaret Mead's work... and Margaret Mead's work was considered to be fairly cutting-edge in the 40's.
Anyways, if you're gonna read this book, also remember that the author never actually set-foot in Japan when she wrote it. She based it on records of Japanese literature, prewar publications and interviews with interned Japanese nationals during the war years. But still, it's a pretty good introduction to Japanese society if you remember the book has its flaws.

I've also read another smashingly-good book called "Embracing Defeat" by John W. Dower. (He wrote another good book called "War Without Mercy", which offered a comparison of race hate as featured in Japanese and American propaganda during World War II.) "Embracing Defeat" was, in my humble opinion, an awesome read (it won a Pulitzer Prize, so I'm not the only one who thinks this.) If you like the history of the 20th century or the history of World War II, this book is especially good- it starts after the surrender of Japan in August 1945. The book looks at the effects of the end of the war on Japanese society, the policies (and screw-ups) of the American occupation forces and how things changed tack as the Cold War began to heat-up. The author is a well-known Japanophile in his outlook, so it's a good idea to keep that in mind as you read. But it is a cool read for any student of modern history.

I've also bought the "Lonely Planet Guide to Japan". The Lonely Planet guides are often worth their weight in gold, but they tend to be a little sarcastic and often try to pre-judge the sights before you see them. And... um... I guess I won't pretend to be a book-reviewer any more.

I've been told that my next door neighbor in Japan will be a New Zealander named Miles. I don't know much about New Zealand, but I hope he speaks fluent Japanese by some miracle. Or he'll at least have all the good party-spots scoped-out beforehand. I hope he's not an asshole.

Anything else? Um... well, today my day did not go from crap to shit. Which is pretty good by anyone's standards.

(02/28/02) There was a study released all-over the news about 2 days ago... "Youths Consume 25% of All Alcohol in the U.S." The instant I saw that number, I thought "No way can that be TRUE! If it were, every teenager would be constantly reeking of hooch!" I immediately disbelieved it- every teenager in the U.S. would have to guzzle gallons of the stuff in order to meet their quota.

But, this gets better: Here's the punch-line released in today's news:

"THE NATIONAL Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse acknowledged late Tuesday that due to an oversight it had not made a necessary adjustment when analyzing data from the 1998 National Household Survey on Drug Abuse.
It said that using the adjustment would bring the figure down to 11.4 percent, but added that it believed that percentage was low due to underreporting by the teens being surveyed; the fact that the survey doesn't account for binge drinking; and the fact that children under 12 weren't surveyed. Adding those factors in, it said, could raise the percentage of alcohol consumed by underage drinkers to 30 percent."

So, basically, they were saying: "Um, yeah, we processed our data wrong. But I'm certain that we collected it wrong too, and if we'd collected and processed it right, it would probably be twenty percent more damning! It's an epidemic, I say!"

Later on in the article, the president of the organization running the survey defends his decision to avoid publicizing the correct information, rationalizing that lying about the whole matter just helps correct for the fact that the subjects must be lying to him about how much they really drink. Blink. Wha? Did he say this with a straight face too?

Don't people check their math before making a big, grand press-release? Doesn't 'peer review' mean anything to these people?

(03/04/02) Factories may be closing by the dozen, lines of scraggly people may be forming by the soup kitchen, demonstrators may be fulminating in the park- but BY GOD America is on the job- we've got thermobaric bombs now! Huzzah! Take that, Afghani caves!

In other news, I saw a commercial today. The scene showed two vampires-- oops, wait-- two WOMEN rather, sitting around a table in a coffee shop. The opening shot is one of the coffee cups and you can't see their faces for the camera is at thorso-level and cuts-off everything above their chins. But one of them is talking... "Oh, I didn't get a wink of sleep last night..." she claims.

"Perhaps you had too much coffee?" I thought. "Or you need a Posturepedic (tm) mattress? Or maybe you don't get enough rat-poison in your diet?"

"It was soooo incredible..." She continues. Hmm, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that this conversation has nothing to do with insomnia. Why I'd bet she got a good dickering the previous night!

No, it wasn't a commercial about the dangers of drinking caffeine too close to bedtime or selecting a mattress without the proper lumbar support. It turns-out it was a commercial for Trojan (tm) brand condoms. Immediately, one random line spoken by Graham Chapman in Monty Python's Meaning of Life popped into my head: "Harry, I want you to sell me a con-dom. Furthermore I should like one with French ticklers, for I am a Protestant!"

Anyways, Trojan Man (or his hand, at least) suddenly approaches the pair of them with great fanfare and interjects to drop the product onto the table... With Climax Control (tm) Lubricant, no less! Ahh, that explains the sleepless night! Trojan Man either has great panache, or extreme presumptuousness. And our hero boasts to us of how his product is the finest in the land, allowing one to "go the distance." (But go where exactly? He never explains... I'd have to assume he means the Yucatan, but I think it's safe to assume this is another double-entendré.)

The other woman quips: "Can you stop-by Randall's place?" Of course, Trojan Man replies that yes, indeed he has stopped-by Randall's place already. Trojan Man also possesses the power of omniscient foresight, obviously.

OHO! She slings her bag over her shoulder and hurriedly speeds-off like the Road Runner. (I mean, she's out the door like a gunshot! She doesn't wait an eye-blink before buzzing-away!) Goodness, she's eager... presumably to "go the distance" with this "Randall" fellow. Meanwhile, I'm wondering if she's planning to pay for her coffee before leaving? In her wild-eyed, lustful scramble to jump Randall's bones, the other woman is left picking-up the tab? That doesn't seem very fair.

But anyways, the slogan at the bottom of the Greek-warrior logo was "Reduce the Risk." This left an issue uncomfortably open in my mind...

Hmm, reduce the risk of what exactly? They're quite vague on what risk they're referring to. Burglary? Bus accidents? The Congo plunging into civil war again? Well, I reasoned, it must be only logical that it's some kind of sexual risk, since they're advertising a prophylactic. So... Pregnancy? Aborting unwanted foetuses? HIV? Crabs? Gonorrhea? Chlamydia? Herpes? Syphillis? Or perhaps they mean all those things and more? They just aren't clear on the matter. But they'll never outwardly say 'reduce the risk of unplanned children, genital warts, the clap and other things that can fuck-up your well-being' because they obviously don't want you to mentally-associate their product with those nasty things... No, yet better to leave it all a glossed-over euphemism. Personally, one can get baffled by all this beating-around the bush.

Risk. Risk. Risk. Bah. What bloody risk do I have? Sex- what's that? I have a greater risk of getting hit by a Goodyear blimp! There's no risk of anything because freaking abstinence is my insurance policy! I don't even have the opportunity to take a risk. I have no need for condoms nowadays. They are as about as useful to me as a pair of earmuffs would be to a damn barracuda!

Why in heck will my V-chip block 'objectionable' content like floppy breasts, but not the Trojan commercials- or any other commercials for that matter? Answer me that one!

(03/11/02) Friday, I was in a coffee shop with my brother- spending some time with him before I leave for Japan. We were both being silly. I wanted to use the opportunity to pitch my new thesis: Fred Flintstone had a quality of life better than that of George Jetson.

"But how can you say that?" He asks, interested.

"Well, look at the work-environment of Fred Flintstone versus that of George Jetson. Fred works in the quarry all day..."

"Doing back-breaking labor." He interjects.

"No, the brontosaurus he rides is doing the labor. But the point is: Fred has fairly good job security at the quarry and most importantly, he has a healthy relationship with his boss, Mr. Slate. Sure, sometimes they ruffle each others' feathers, but Fred isn't terrified of Mr. Slate. Now George on the other hand... he works in a closed office-space with stale, pumped-in air. What does he do? He pushes buttons all day until his button-pushing finger is throbbing and sore. And, worst of all, he lives under constant fear of that midget Hitler, Mr. Spacely. I mean, every episode, Spacely has singled-out George for sadistic games that go above and beyond cruel." I sip my latté and continue. "Every episode, it's monotony: 'Jet-son! You're fired!' You start to wonder if Spacely has any other employees to beat-up on. Or if George can even get another job. The employer-employee relationship in the Jetsonian workplace is that of master and slave, labor unions must've been weakened considerably. Respecting employees has gone the way of the dinosaur. George is just so much chattel to be chewed-up and spat-out by vast, inhuman forces beyond his control.
"Furthermore, the Jetson household doesn't have all those friendly, wisecracking domestic-chore animals making jests and japes. It must be quite lonely to be surrounded by the cold, unthinking eyes of the Jetsonian house-cleaning devices all day."

"But what about all the dinosaur dung that would be lying-around?" He asks.

"The domestic-chore animals in The Flintstones seem to clean-up after themselves. Astro would never touch his own mess, as he's a lazy, presumptuous cur of a mongrel. And after work, George comes-home to his idle, demanding wife and his thankless, dim-witted floozy of a daughter."

My brother laughs curtly. "Yes, Judy Jetson is a dim-wit floozy... You could get her into the sack by giving her a piece of candy, I bet." He then does an impromptu imitation of Astro: "Rey, Rorge!"

I grin. "Sure, the Jetsons have better technology, but at what price I ask? They've surrounded themselves with ill-tempered machinery and choking bureaucracy. It's as if the worst of Terry Gilliam's Brazil has fused with the World of Tomorrow exhibit from the 1939 World's Fair. Human relationships have given-way to ones and zeroes. The machines don't serve humanity, humanity serves the machines! George's career is working at Spacely Sprockets... the competitor of Cogswell Cogs. Everyone seems to be hard at work unwittingly adding to the nightmare by providing more nuts and bolts and camshafts. This is the biggest irony of all because it is George who is unknowingly a sprocket in this dystopian and dehumanizing technological terror that awaits us all in the year 2064! The world of the Jetsons is a hysterical warning- not of the future that will be, but of the future that could be!" I wave my hands ominously. "OOoooOOOooohhh!" I added for good measure.

"I never thought of it that way... I think Fred's world is more violent; people are always carrying clubs around. And what of the hunger aspect? The Flintstones all need to eat huge quantities of food to stave-off hunger. I mean- the pterodactyl eggs are as big as beach-balls. The brontosaurus ribs are so big, they invariably tip-over Fred's car!" Then, he snarls. "But of course, the Jetsons are blasphemous."

"Blasphemers? How?" I ask with a smile. My brother is certainly not religious- he is someone who routinely refers to Christianity as 'that sky-god cult'.

"They live among the clouds." He replies with a wave of his hand. "They arrogantly flit-about the sky like winged angels on zephyrs. They create foodstuffs from the aether like some magician's trick, impudently cheapening the role of Creator. Where is religion in their future? It has long died-out. Their memory of the savior Jesus Christ has been cast-down and forgotten. The soulless Jetsonian hew-mons extend their life-spans to be comparable to that of Abraham or Methuselah... not through prayer and faith, but through some form of necromancy or sorcery!" He sips his coffee. "And worst of all, these unholy thaumaturges breathe life into their cold, metal automatons. Only the Creator may create life! Rosie the house-keeping robot? She's nothing more than a Frankensteinian mechanical Golem... a rolling abomination. A dead-eyed, cynical mockery of the book of Genesis!"

"Boy, you play just one record backwards and you think the devil's talking at you." I interject with a smile.

He replaces his cup on the saucer. "The Jetsons blur the distinction between man and God. They'll all deserve to smolder in the fires of eternal damnation for their hubris!" He thumps his fist on the table, rattling the spoons. "Blasphemy!"

Someone at the next table overheard us and interrupted. "Oh fer Chrisssakes- It's only a damn cartoon!"

We both burst-out laughing. Yup- I'm gonna miss him...

Tracy Update: The next day, I had dinner with Sally and Marcus (I'm not surprised if you don't recognize their names... I haven't seen them since the summer of 1999). They recently moved-in to a city not too far from where I live and they invited me over to visit for the weekend before I leave the country. If you recall, Sally was the person who helped introduce me to Tracy, the second woman I slept with.

So, I drove-over. It only took a few hours to get there, but I was glad to see them both. We had steak (grilled outside in the snow) garlic mashed potatoes (I think everything tastes jazzier with garlic- even jazz.) and cake- a big, chocolate bastard of a cake.

After dinner, I asked what had become of Tracy. I hadn't heard anything from her since... um, 1997 I think. Which is when she got engaged, if you'll recall. Much to my chagrined befuddlement.

Sally told me that Tracy was now a head-nurse in an assisted-living home and was making a fairly good salary. She has a 3-year old son and still lives with her husband. "I got an email from her a few months ago saying hello. But I haven't heard from her since- I think she's pretty busy."

Marcus asked Sally at that point: "Are they still having problems?"

"What problems?" Sally asked back.

"You know what problems I'm talking about." Marcus replied. "Six months ago, you were on the phone all night that one time..."

"She didn't mention anything about it, I think they're over it." She cut him off in mid-sentence.

All the while, I'm thinking: "what problems? Tracy and her husband are having problems? They've been giving each other a little 'knuckle-chat', maybe?" It wasn't polite for me to ask for more information, but I guess it's safe for me to assume something: Tracy once had or is having notable marital friction with the man she got engaged to a mere two weeks after she and I slept together.

I felt no sympathy for her. In fact, I felt an odd level of satisfaction. Is that distastefully schadenfreude of me, or what? Two or three years ago, I never would've felt that way when hearing about a couple's marital problems. Maybe there was a time in the past where I would've felt sorry for Tracy- but no longer. It was she who pursued this end. Sorry, I'm all sympathied-out as far as American women are concerned. They can get blackened eyes and broken noses from their dearly beloved, asshole men for all I care. Injury resulting from women putting themselves in harms' way is no basis for my sympathy at all.

(03/17/02) Well, I should let you know- right now, I'm in Japan and in the process of getting settled-in to my apartment in Michinoshi. It'll be a while before I make another update, so be patient and check back in early April... That's when I aim to post a story or two on how I'm faring.

Until then, I won't be able to answer e-mail very often or very thoroughly... but I hope that you'll bear with me. So, until I make my next few postings- have fun!

(03/29/02) Just wanted you all to know that I'm alive and kicking on Planet Japan (huzzah!) and I'm in the process of getting settled-in and trying to get up to speed with the requirements of working here... so, I hope to post stuff after I get a chance to write things that are meaningful...

Sheesh, all the cars on the left-hand side of the road will take some getting used to...

(04/02/02) Well, so far, I've been enjoying myself immensely. The food here is sooo good! I'm getting used to my work schedule, and I had quite a busy weekend... oh, heck- why not read the latest article I've put-up? That should bring you up to speed...

(04/08/02) Went to a gaijin bar last night with Miles... Mercedes, one of my co-workers, invited me to come under the pretext that she might be able to waive the cover-charge (she was unsuccessful). I should probably give some background on the gaijin bars... There are plenty of drinking spots in Japan, the Japanese ones include the little mom-and-pop places where you can buy huge bottles of beer and nosh on stuff like sliced cabbage or shiokara (salted fish guts). And karaoke places, where you can drink all night for a flat fee while getting your eardrums run-through with drunken wailing. I've been told that drinking is one of the national passtimes, and nothing goes better with Japanese food than a beer... Now that I've been here for a number of weeks, I find it impossible to have beer without Japanese food or vice-versa because they just go so well together.

But gaijin bars are a different creature... Essentially, they are bars run by foreigners, for foreigners. As a result, they highly resemble western bars, but with a few Japanese-like touches here and there. The menus feature stuff like hoagies, burgers and things like Japanese curry dishes. The bar in question was called Bernie's (like, 'weekend-at'). Bernie's looked like an American sports-bar, with wood-paneling and various sports memorabilia on the walls. The staff were either English-speaking Japanese or foreigners who were there to make an extra buck (like Mercedes). There were a number of theme-nights, of course... ladies' night, Hawaiian night... well, you get the picture. Oh, and there were also a pair of pulchritudinous, comely Japanese lasses in these skin-tight spandex get-ups who were obviously there to distract people as part of a promotion to exhort patrons to pour Bacardi rum down their throats. (Not just any rum, mind you- it must be Bacardi. Or something horrible will happen to you if you drink an inferior brand, I assume.)

I'm sitting with Miles, and we notice that the clientele seem to be mostly Kiwi, Australian or (oddly enough) west African. I think that I won't pick-up much Japanese if I spend too much time around other foreigners... I mean, it might be fun to drop-in once in a while, but I don't think I'd come here regularly. As we were talking, I was asking Miles a few questions about the differences between Australians and New Zealanders.

"Americans always assume that New Zealand and Australia get-along together... well, we don't always get along-- stop peeking at the Bacardi girls, ya horny bastard!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." I turn my head to look back at him. "Well, isn't there some kind of mutual-defense treaty between the two? I read somewhere that there was."

"Um... that's true, but... Turkey and Greece are in NATO, but they don't get along all the time."

"True... okay, what kind of jokes do Australians make about New Zealanders?"

"Sheep. Sheep jokes mainly."

"Sheep jokes?"

"Yeah, they make fun of our big sheep population. We all make love to sheep. We all wear velcro gloves to hold sheep still while we rape them. That sort of thing."

"Velcro gloves?!" I laugh and swig my drink. "That's pretty funny. Okay, well how do Kiwis make fun of Australians?"

"Assholes with stupid accents. Basically, we joke that they're a bunch of assholes with dumb accents who make fun of our sheep-raping. I mean, I rape ewes all the time. It's not nice for them to make fun of me and Fluffy Edna..." He laughed and shook his head.

Anyways, work at the office is proceeding apace... I hope to post some interesting new stories within the next few weeks, so stay tuned.

(04/18/02) Well, I found-out a bit information about sexual harassment rules here. It's like a good news/bad news joke. The good news: there are minimal sexual harassment rules in Japan. The bad news: there are minimal sexual harassment rules in Japan. Yes, Japan seems to be a country where women experience a certain level of institutionalized sexism, and the lack of harassment rules is one of the ways in which this is manifested.

Make no mistake: this is not to say that Japanese men have everything all great and women are always trampled underfoot- that's just not true. Men are practically shackled to their desks and factory consoles for long hours. They have long, uncomfortable commutes and after work, many of them drink large quantities of alcohol in order to deaden the pains of existence. They are obliged at any and all times to display obeisance to the whims of their employers to a degree that is entirely unimaginable back in the States... on top of that, they get precious little time to be with their kids or relax.

And it's not all bleak: women here do have niches in which they exercise their authority. In Japanese households, it is women who typically manage the family budget... it is not uncommon for an overwhelming percentage of the guy's earnings to go straight into a bank account that is in her name. (This gets visibly demonstrated whenever you walk into a Japanese bank: there will be only 1 or 2 male customers but two dozen female customers lined-up at the tellers. No major purchase ever gets made without the wife saying 'yes'.) And if you spend any time in a typical Japanese household, it eventually becomes obvious who calls the shots (hint: it isn't the husband). The point is: there is more overt sexism here, but it is also clear that neither gender gets everything it wants.

But anyway, the possibility of sexual harassment in the workplace is a fact of life for Japanese women. She either lives with the possibility, or she quits her job. However, this is not to say that a typical day for a female employee is a barrage of non-stop ass-slapping, either. I'm not sure how often harassment happens or what avenues of protest exist when it does, but I'll try to find out. I work in an office with all women, (save myself and Miles). This situation makes me feel a little more comfortable with interacting with my female coworkers than I do in America- because here, I can compliment a woman on her outfit without first pausing to wonder if I'm kicking a hornets' nest. I also feel bad for the Japanese women who actually have to put-up with harassment. (I hope this isn't surprising to you, but I do have sympathy for those women... seeing as how they aren't Americans.)

Anyway, I don't think there have been any harassment court-cases at all in Japan. Well, going to court here is rather rare anyway, and many people say this is so by arguing that Japan isn't a litigious society. That sounds like a good explanation, but it isn't entirely true... In the days preceding the 1600s, Japanese appear to have been quite willing to drag wrongdoers to the town magistrates for justice. The fact of the matter is, the Japanese court system today systematically denies people success in litigation. The judges are often trained to be biased against the plaintiffs, thinking that they are impudent for daring to bring the matter to court in the first place. Furthermore, judges are promoted based on how many cases they can shift into out-of-course settlement in X amount of time, so a judge is not rewarded for taking a case to its conclusion. Lawyers are damnably expensive, fairly inaccessible, and they mostly often belong to the same law-school old-boy network as the judges. Court cases can take a very long time to reach a final decision. Consider the Minamata Bay industrial poisoning case... In the 1950s and 1960s, the Chisso Chemical company dumped toxic compounds into Minamata bay, tainting the fish. The surrounding residents got ill from eating the fish and their children were born with debilitating deformities. The case was taken to court. While the judges in the case kept asking that the plaintiffs settle out of court, the chemical company resorted to all sorts of chicanery. They hired gangsters to rough-up the plaintiffs. They bribed members of the medical establishment to testify that eating mercury-tainted fish wasn't all that bad for you. They arranged police-beatings against the anti-pollution activists who held rallies in support of the plaintiffs. But eventually, the plaintiffs showed rare perseverance in the face of adversity; it took about ten years for the victims to get justice.

In short, it's not that Japan is a non-litigious society, it's because the legal system structurally discourages Japanese people from seeking legal recourse. Out-of-court conciliation is always more productive than going through the judiciary. I think this fact might also be a major factor in the dearth of sexual-harassment litigation: suing for harassment is just not a lucrative activity in Japan like it is in the States.

Anyway, in the U.S., the reaction to sexual harassment appears to have been taken to a ludicrous extreme: the laws are vague enough to be overly sweeping and gives any woman the ability to ruin a male coworker's career with a fabricated complaint. In any given dispute, her word is automatically accepted as indisputable truth. An American man, although given similar rights, is almost never taken seriously when it comes to harassment cases of his own. But in Japan, the harassment situation appears to be at the opposite extreme of the spectrum: neither sex has any protection from harassment at all. I have no idea how prevalent harassment is. Maybe if I were in mixed company in the workplace, I'd have a better idea?

Naturally, if I ever see a guy harassing a woman, I'll definitely make an effort to intervene on the woman's behalf. I mean... there must be an ideal legal arrangement between the two extreme poles of the spectrum whereby both sexes are protected from harassment and false accusations. Can't there?

Anyway, work is proceeding apace. I went to the museum with Michiko, (I found-out some days before that she has a husband). After viewing the displays of samurai armor and calligraphy from the Muromachi, Momoyama and Tokugawa eras, we went to her house for sushi with her husband. Dinner was really good (of course) and I filled my face with raw fish and sliced octopus stuffed inside rolled rice and seaweed paper. I also tried some new savory delights such as natto (fermented soybeans suspended in a syrupy, snot-like contrivance of indeterminable origin) and plum-flavored sake (quite nice, if slightly prune-smelling). Anyway, rumor around the office has it that I'm single, and I've quietly asked a few coworkers if they might consider setting me-up on a blind-date or two with one of their friends in the near future... We'll see how that turns-out, if at all. Something tells me that if I get so much as one date through coworkers, it'll be a very long shot indeed.

Of course it is far, far too early to declare the Grand Experiment finished. Were are not even close to concluding it. But the important fact of the matter is, so far I'm actually quite happy interacting with the women here. They are a joy to be around, even if I don't have a romantic relationship with any of them. So far, they have largely demonstrated their public demeanor to be that of pleasant Ladies. But I'll reserve judgement for quite a while yet...

(05/01/02) Yikes, I haven't been able to update in a damn long time.

My paycheck is in yen. Of course that's not surprising; I was bloody well-aware of what currency I'd be paid in all along. (The exchange rate is running at approximately 130 yen to the dollar, and it fluctuates daily.) The thing is... some economists have suggested here and there that the yen might get devalued sometime this year. Naturally, that would suck for me. As everyone knows, Japan's economy has slipped in and out of recession for the last twelve years. Neither Keynesian deficit-spending nor rock-bottom interest rates worked to stimulate things. Er, well, that's not entirely accurate: the economy seemed on the verge of turning-around back in 1996 (3% growth predicted for the year), but some smart-guy in the Ministry of Finance decided to raise taxes at the last minute. Party ended before it could start.

But for the most part, the economy is trapped in a never-ending crisis because the financial system is broomhandled-up the arse and resists any and all attempts to reform it. Furthermore, the political system has been running entirely on auto-pilot and is unable to get its act together, because elected officials are all but irrelevant to how the system actually functions. Anyways, every now and then some economist will claim that the all-powerful Ministry of Finance is planning to devalue the yen in order to give a kick to exports. In theory, cheapening the yen will have a double-whammy effect: it will make Japanese exports cheaper and make imports more expensive, thus, encouraging Japanese citizens to buy domestic goods instead of imports. (Cheap Chinese imports are clobbering Japan's domestic textile-makers for instance, and a yen devaluation would help the home producers by making the Chinese competition more expensive.) However, a devaluation will also serve to reduce the number of dollars for which I could exchange my yen, which will suck if when I want to, say, build my stock portfolio back home. If Japan tries to devalue in an attempt to (once again) export its way out the slump, other countries (such as the US) will cry foul, saying that Japan is dumping goods at unfair prices (once again) and slap tariffs and quotas on stuff like Japanese steel, autos and electronics (once again).

In the event of a devaluation, I'll be getting fewer dollars and the world will get pissed-off. So, I hope that doesn't happen... Yes, believe it or not, this kind of stuff actually keeps me up at night sometimes.

Speaking of pissing-off the world, on April 22nd, the Japanese Prime Minister (Junichiro Koizumi, whose tousled hair looks eerily like that of Richard Gere) made a surprise visit to the Yasukuni shrine, which is a Shinto memorial to Japan's 2.5 million war dead. (Not just World War II, mind you: but also the Sino-Japanese War, the Russo-Japanese War and other conflicts dating back to the mid-19th century in which Japanese soldiers died). There normally wouldn't be too much wrong with that, except 16 war criminals are also memorialized at the shrine. Countries that were devastated during World War II, such as China and South Korea, sent some very indignant diplomatic notes to Japan and canceled a few planned visits by dignitaries. Over the last few years, this sort of diplomatic flap over the Yasukuni shrine has been happening quite a bit.

On another topic, this morning I had to go-out to a client's site in a suburb with Ryoko, one of my co-workers. Instead of forcing me to take the train, Ryoko offered to come-by and pick me up because her apartment is only 5 minutes away from mine, and she was going to drive there herself. So, at 7:30 this morning, I was waiting outside my apartment building. The sun was starting to burn-off the haze over the city, and I slipped-on my $160 Italian sunglasses in a vain attempt to look cool. Ryoko's Nissan minivan drove-up and I hopped-in.

"Ohayogozaimasu." I yawned.

"Ohayogozaimasu, Naisugai-san." She said, in her requisite one-octave-above-normal voice. She drove towards the highway and pointed to a covered Starbucks travel-mug in the cup-holder on the dashboard. "I brought a coffee for you."

"Really?" I asked in semi-disbelief. For- for me? "Thank you!" I grabbed the cup and sniffed it. "Did you make this at home?"

"Yes, I have Starbucks coffee at home." She replied.

"Wow. That is so nice of you." I sipped it, it tasted very good. "My God, you are so thoughtful!" Wow indeed, I was impressed. I... I didn't know what to say. I mean... I know this is a simple, small gesture but... I can not recall the last time a woman brought me a coffee first thing in the morning without any prompting at all. Dear Lord, how I love the women here! They are so thoughtful! (See? I am easy to please!)

Speaking of which, I have a deito (date) of sorts coming-up... at one of my Japanese language classes, there was a female volunteer teacher whom I got paired-up with for conversation practice. When I first laid eyes on her, I thought "Yowza!" I was sitting across the table from a real honey! She was attractive enough to be standing behind the cosmetics counter in a department store! She had very clear skin, and carmel-colored hair. In fact, she looks like the heroine from the movie Final Fantasy (I forget her name). During the conversation, I got to know her better. Her name was Kaori. She is 26, and normally works as a wedding singer. She only does teaching on a volunteer basis because she wants to improve her English and her dream is to go to Australia one day; indeed, she is looking for an English tutor.

Two hours flew-by really quickly. We were having fun talking and laughing. By the end, I was telling her a little story about how I tried to make sushi using sanma (canned sardines) the other day.

"You... you can not make sushi with sanma!" She stuck-out her tongue. "Ew!" She cupped her hand over her mouth and laughed.

"No, you can't... I found that out pretty quickly." I shrugged.

"Never have I tried sushi with sanma. How was it? Was it delicious?"

"Well... I could eat it, so it couldn't be so bad, could it?" I smiled. She laughed again.

"Do you need Japanese?" She asked. I nodded. "I need English... I want to teach you if you can teach me..." She smiled sweetly. I noticed that we were running out of time. I decided to use this opportunity to ask for a date.

"So... are you free next Tuesday?" I proffered.

She checked her schedule and nodded. "Yes, I don't work until the night."

"Would you like to do something then?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes, yes. Thank you. We can go to a park... oh, maybe it will rain Tuesday?"

"Well, if it rains, we can have lunch. Where shall we meet?" Internally, I'm giving myself a high-five: 'Yessss!'

So, we made arrangements to meet below the escalators at Michinoshi's rather huge central train station at 11 AM. When I get the chance, I'll write-up the story of what happens!!

Boy, so far I love the women here! They are so pleasant to be around. An added bonus: they don't need to use deodorant because their sweat doesn't smell bad. Oh, one last thing: an overwhelming percentage of the women here are slim... Every couple of days, I'll see a random Caucasian woman on the subway or walking down the street. She'll stand-out like a sore thumb and can be spotted a mile away. Now, these women are not necessarily Americans... they could be European, Australian, Kiwi or from wherever. But the point is, they look... (oh, there's no classy way of saying this, but I'm just telling it like it is) they tend to look rather meaty when compared with the rest of the crowd. Or maybe it's just an optical illusion. Or my imagination.

I'm sure they're just big-boned, is all...

(05/09/01) My birthday has recently come to pass. (Huzzah.) I'm now 27. How should I feel? Happy? Sad? Aged? Wiser? Decrepit? "Oh rapture, I'm one year closer to death!" I just don't know how I should feel. Um... heh, okay, I'm about to reveal to you one of the most lame and pathetic secrets I'm willing to admit to... here goes... Ahem: whenever I had a birthday party in the past- you know when you blow-out the candles and make a b-day wish? Well... since age 17, whenever I had a birthday party (not every year, mind you) I would make one wish when I blew-out my candles year after year after year. My wish would always be to find a really cool girlfriend in the coming year. You can laugh now. Yeah, I know, that's a very lame thing to admit to, but it's the truth. But, I haven't made this wish in the last few years especially... after age 25, you tend to have fewer birthday parties.

I didn't tell anyone in Japan about my birthday, I don't think I really want all the attention that would've resulted. I got a few emailed cards from people at home, but that's about it. Anyways, anywhere on my site where I've written that I'm 26... that is no longer applicable. I've updated my introduction accordingly.

Enough about that. Anyhoo, I've been reading a few articles here and there about the women's movement as it has developed in Japan, and it's been quite interesting. The women of today's Japan can probably owe the legal basis for their equality to someone named Beate Sirota Gordon. Beate was a Vienna-born woman who went to college in the U.S. and spent much of her life living in Japan. After the surrender of Japan in 1945, Beate became a constitutional researcher who was asked by the occupation authorities under General MacArthur to help draft a new Japanese constitution. Specifically, she contributed the bits in the Japanese constitution that touch-on women's rights and academic freedom. She studied constitutions from a variety of different nations: among others, she studied the contitutions of the U.S.S.R., the Weimar Republic and a number of Scandinavian countries in order to create specific recommendations for the Japanese constitution. Although many of her recommendations wound-up not being implemented, certain fundamental rights of women did make it into the final document in 1947. Specifically, the rights to own and inherit property, to vote and run for office and equal legal standing with men. (And certain lop-sided laws that conflicteed with this were scrapped. For instance, before 1945, it was a crime for a female to commit adultery but not for men to do the same.)

On April 20th, 1946, women were allowed to participate in the first Japanese general elections. And 39 women were elected to public office on that day, too. In fact, one of the first consumer-advocacy groups to appear in postwar Japan was Chufuren, (the Association of Housewives). Back in the late 1940s, goods were scarce and buying day-to-day necessities on the black market was almost a full-time job in itself. Chufuren was founded in 1948 to counter the power of racketeers and gangsters who were fixing food prices in the economic turbulence after the surrender. Wives, who were in charge of their households' finances, naturally had every reason to band-together and protect themselves from price-fixers.

Nowadays, women's organizations in Japan are quite common. Every neighborhood has a fujinkai, or a women's organization, which looks-after local causes and tends to meet monthly or bi-monthly. The community cohesion in Japan is commendable; Japanese citizens appear more enthusiastically connected to community causes than do their counterparts in the U.S. I don't have any concrete number or statistics to back me up, but it's a distinct impression that I've gotten based on what different people have mentioned.

I guess my main point is: who ever said that Japanese women are necessarily submissive? Their political activities suggest something quite to the contrary, I would say.

Oh, speaking of which, there's a thirtysomething woman who I've met at a client's office... her name is Fumiyo. She's married, but I've gotten locked-into regularly going-out to rather pleasant dinners with her every other week. The set of experiences will be forthcoming in future updates, and I think they are quite interesting... I've also fine-tuned my Top 10 Criticisms to reflect ongoing feedback.

An another note, you'd think that spending about 2 months away from American women might've perhaps reduced how much white-hot loathing I feel for them... but not so. In fact, I have to say that today I have less respect for them than ever... Whenever I go to a gaijin bar, I notice that American chicks in Japan seem to love getting liquored-up. Preferably with lots of liquor, especially when a man is paying for it... This isn't anything new to me: when I was in college, I naturally noticed that a lot of female students around me seemed to get snockered on a dismayingly regular basis. Yes, it seems as if quite a few of the gaijin females can't keep their hands off the hooch. (Naturally, it would be impolitic of me to mention the President's daughters, so I won't get into that...)

To back-up what I have to say: the Journal of American College Health recently reported that between 1993 and 2001, all-women colleges witnessed a 125% increase in "frequent binge drinking". Furthermore, it has been said in a number of different articles on alcoholism that twice as many girls and women than boys and men are treated for chronic intoxication. Devon Jersild, who wrote a book on female alcoholism, once commented that "(female drinkers) associate drinking with power... They think that if they drink like a guy, they will be like a guy."

What do I think? Well, if an American woman wants to puke-up her pancreas and ruin her liver in order to show-off her masculinity, then who am I to raise a fuss over it? Yes, not all American women are boozy hags... but you could fairly come-away with the impression that most of the American women who come to Japan seem to tend that way in their spare time. I sincerely give them a big thumbs-up in continuing to drink unhealthy volumes of alcohol in hopes they suffer the nastiest of side-effects.

What can I say? It's not at all an exagerration for me to testify that these abominable skanks look nastier and nastier each time they cross my path... 'Ugly Americans', indeed.

(05/20/02) I have not been available to respond to reader email very much- why is this so? Because I have been benefitting from an extremely packed work and social schedule. My daylight hours are crammed with work... and my off-hours are crammed with going to bars and nightclubs, attending outdoor barbeques... and going to resturaunts with various women. Not only with Kaori and Fumiyo, but there have also been a number of new women who have showed interest in getting to know me in the last few weeks... They are: Rie, Haruna and Sayaka. Rie, Haruna and Sayaka have all been women I've met outside of work... I met Rie in Japanese class, Haruna in a nightclub and Sayaka on the subway. I barely know them so far, and I'll hopefully be able to tell you some details in a few more weeks. Don't be jealous at this point: all of them might yet get bored of me after the first few meetings.

According to my latest family-news updates emailed to me from home, my sister has rescinded her hen-pecked husband's privilege to... (wait for it)... handle sharp objects. Apparently, he cut his thumb-open on a brand-new paring knife and needed to get several stitches in order to close the wound. So, sister now makes it clear that he is not to touch any cutting edges in her kitchen, lest he clumsily injure himself again. So... is she going to put corks on the end of all the shish-kebab skewers and butter-knives? Oh, but why stop there? Why not sand-off all the corners on the kitchen counters so he doesn't accidentally trip and crack his head-open? Maybe she'll put child-safety covers over all the electrical outlets so her husband doesn't stick his fingers into the sockets and get a nasty shock?
In sister's mind, her 33-year old mate has officially crossed the line separating adulthood and kindergartner. 'The poor idiot male needs me to save him from himself...' Oh yes- only condescension of the leading quality is good enough for her husband!

In other news: My cell phone has revolutionized my social life, and it is a major factor in piling-up the phone numbers of women whom I've met around town. I got the phone a week ago, and already I've begun to appreciate it. Japan is home to the world's largest concentration of mobile Internet users- over 50 million at last count. Back in the U.S., I had a cell-phone, but it was comparatively primitive. The LCD screen was clunky and two-tone... the gaps in network coverage copious... the Internet services overpriced. But now, I have a color LCD screen. The network connections are seamless (with the exception of subway tunnels... I can walk through the vast underground malls of Japan and still get a strong signal.) And best of all, I can send and receive text to phones on the Japanese network, and write emails to my friends everywhere for the low, low price of 1 yen per message! This is wonderful... now, friends back in North America and around Asia can send emails into my pocket- literally. I can send gossip from anywhere... riding the trains, standing in line at an ATM machine, on the toilet... And I can even view emailed pictures. Naturally, they'll be compressed to fit my cell-phone, but I can still view them.
Truly, the user-friendliness and utility of the Japanese cell-phone system is something to be awed.

Oh, and I know this next bit isn't relevant, but I wanted to type this-out while I still have it fresh in mind because I think it's darkly funny... In a bit of news I read today: the Oxford University Press has plans to release a newly-translated version of the Kama Sutra. (Of course, you already know that the Kama Sutra is a centuries-old Indian manual on sex and sexual positions.) Wendy Doniger, the co-interpreter of the new version, opined that the original 1883 translation by Richard Burton was too "boys-only" and too influenced by the male-oriented mores of Victorian thought of the day (or too 'censored', as she put it)... So this new version apparently includes certain female-oriented sections that were edited-out of the original translation. The additions are quite revealing... some of the new bits include advice on how to properly scream at your man in order to motivate him and ways to get him out of your life when you desire him gone. And indeed, one of the new chapters is called "Ways to Get Money From Him."

Heh, the more things change, the more they stay the same...

(05/30/02) It's World Cup time... unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to attend any games. Naturally, I don't really follow soccer very closely, but I do love to watch an exciting game on television from time to time. The skill required by all the players never ceases to amaze me...

Anyways, there are a few books which have been recently brought to my attention... the book "Queen Bees & Wannabees" by Rosalind Wiseman and "Women's Inhumanity to Women" by Phyllis Chesler. Both of these try to analyze patterns of female bullying as they get manifested in teens and adults. In fact, the conclusions these books draw are quite elucidating. Specifically, "Queen Bees & Wannabees" focuses on in-group/out-group thinking of teenage girls, and how it affects their behavior patterns as they grow into adult women. It suggests that female clique-forming centered around the so-called 'Queen Bee' archetype has it so that the alpha-females are judgmental, grudge-holding, undermining gossips who rule by fear of exclusion and social ridicule. (As if this is somehow news.) One example of behavior is their habit of vacuuming-up sensitive information about others, mixing it with lies and distributing the gossip at a strategic time to cause maximum humiliation. (Again, no surprises there...) Furthermore, these toxic behavior patterns carry-on well into adulthood, to boot. Examples of adult women acting in these ways are given to show how alpha-females integrate their behavior as young adults into their grown-up roles as career women, wives and mothers.

The book "Women's Inhumanity to Women" (note: the title does not confront the idea that women could ever be inhuman to men) looks at the ways in which adult women undermine and backbite each other in the workplace and in social situations... Such as how they attempt to form little groups in an attempt to humiliate other women by pointedly preventing outsiders from joining. Or how they competitively begrudge other females' good fortune to the point of trying to sabotage it in secretive and scheming ways. An almost-cliché result of these dynamics is how female office managers are sometimes more feared than male bosses. Chesler suggests that having to submit to groups who practice these sorts of behaviors can result in many women having "no courage, no spontaneity and no authentic relationships" with other human beings... In short: women like that have difficulty interacting with other people in ways that are not totally obnoxious. (Again, no surprises there.)

Both books are quite interesting reading, but they only stated what I already knew. To be fair, one can criticize these books by saying that they lack concrete statistical facts and rely heavily on stereotyping. But I invite you to read them nonetheless and reach your own conclusions...

In other news- if you've come to this page, then you already know from your own experience that women can go-on and on about how they wish that men were more sensitive. Yet when it comes to actually choosing a date Saturday night, their 'sensitive man' rhetoric is revealed to be a heap o' humbug and goat-farts. The instant she runs-across a man who is in touch with his emotions, then he's sentenced to languish in 'nice guy/just friends' purgatory for this sin. Modern women don't like sensitive men, traditional women don't like 'em either- except as sources of free psychological counseling. But I've been thinking about a theory of why 'sensitive' men aren't considered attractive by women. I sincerely invite people to comment. (Perhaps this is not a totally original idea? Perhaps it's been said elsewhere by others and I just don't know about it? That's one of the reasons I need input.) Here goes...

You know that self-described 'intelligent' women will huff and puff that men feel 'threatened' by smart women? How they sneer that men have an immature, control-freaking need to be the brains behind a relationship or they'll think their pee-pees are too small? That a smart woman is unattractive because she can't be out-smarted, manipulated and taken advantage-of?
Well, here is my theory based on the exact same principle: I think that women feel threatened by men who are more emotionally-intelligent than they are. She needs a macho, unfeeling guy in order to feel truly feminine (especially if she's mannish, herself). That's right, if a woman runs across a man who is emotionally-intelligent, she'll feel un-womanly next to him... because he might start to usurp her 'rightful' female position of authorizing who should be feeling what and when. And believe me, there are a lot of women out there who are total insecure clods when it comes to being carried-away by their own emotions, yet she will still think she should be in charge of her man's feelings because she assumes he must be emotionally stunted compared to herself. In order for him to get in touch with his 'feminine' side, he needs to be told when and how to feel... told by her, that is. A man who can already do that on his own isn't a man who can be controlled as easily. He's not as easy to manipulate.

A woman feels that she should be in control of the emotions in a relationship, and her power-position will be endangered by a man with more savoir-faire. A man who is already in-touch with his emotions might be capable of figuring-out how she tries to fuck with his thoughts. For instance: with a sweet and sensitive man, she can't claim that buying her things is equivalent to romance because he already knows what romance is! He is aware of his own hot-buttons, so he'll know what she's up-to when she tries to secretly push them. He can't be told that 'up' is 'down', because he's just not oblivious. And furthermore, sensitive men make poor whipping-boys because they might actually voice their pain and can't be relied-upon to unflinchingly absorb the abuse she loves to dish-out. If a man ever says to a woman 'you're hurting my feelings', that might make her feel bad for being a bitch and we certainly can't have that, can we??

And on this last point- women prefer insensitive men because they make good punching-bags for whenever they want to vent after a bad day. An insensitive man won’t raise an eyebrow as she rants and screams her bloody fool head-off. In a relationship with power struggles, an insensitive man won't blink in the face of her cathartic haranguing. It’s just more fun to be an unaccountable hollering maniac, and a sensitive man couldn't hold-up under all the crap she produces.

Yet women still claim they want someone 'sensitive'- why do they continue to insist it if it's so obviously a total freakin' lie? There can be no other reason other than the most obvious-- women are complaining, mewling infants who only want the things they don't already have. (Ouch! But I'm just telling it like it is...)

The more I think about this theory, the more it seems to make sense. Comments?

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