Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Monthly Archives: August 2005
Sociobiology of Boobage 101
In 1983, Vincent Sarich taught a course at Berkeley called “The Evolution of Human Behavior.” He let us know on the first day that the class was experimental. He had some rough ideas about course content — some things he wanted to talk about, a handful of ideas he wanted to share.
Sounded like good clean fun, and we really did have a blast, too. Professor Sarich (that grizzly teddy bear on the left) was good to his word. He talked, we listened — and argued with him, of course.
For a final exam, he asked us to write three short essays on topics of our own choosing. They had to be somewhat relevant to the course, but beyond that, we were on our own. My three topics:
Genius, a maladaptive trait
Why are hiccups contagious?
The Road Warrior: a sociobiologic perspective
I got an A+.
Funny thing, though. I’ve only retained two things from that class. One is a concept: the Tragedy of the Commons (see the Wikipedia article here, or the original article here), which suggests that folks will always choose their own self interest over the common good, even to their ultimate detriment. If you’re curious about this, I recommend you start with the Wiki article, since it is shorter than the original article and has considerably more perspective.
The other thing I learned in Professor Sarich’s class is why men love cleavage. “I want to talk about breasts today,” he said, except that with his slight speech impediment it came out “breashts.” “Why are they so appealing?”
The traditional sociobiological interpretation is that large breasts are desirable because they translate to well fed babies. Sociobiology was big back then. Still is, for all I know. In case you’re unfamiliar with it, here’s the basic idea. Our behavior is ruled by our genes, and in particular, our genes’ desire to pass on more of themselves to the next generation. “But,” you argue, “genes are not sentient.” Pshaw! Genes don’t have to be sentient to find ways of furthering their own interests.
Back to boobs. Professor Sarich contended that the sociobiologists were wrong. Men don’t love breasts because they want well fed babies. Men crave hooters because of a cross-wiring problem. You see, men get boobs confused with butts:
always gave me wood.
It’s gotta be true.
D.
Support Cindy Sheehan
Cindy Sheehan, the woman who has camped out in front of Bush’s ranch, demanding answers — that’s who. For my Canadian and European readers, learn more about Cindy’s story here, at Daily Kos. You’ll find a wealth of links in the right-hand side bar.
Through her heroism, Cindy has done more to expose the President’s cowardice than anyone in the main stream media to date.
You can support Cindy by donating to her cause. We did.
D.
Two Short Posts Today
Finally Questioning Pentagon Reports on Iraqi Insurgents?
From an Aug. 8, 2005 article from UPI:
“If the U.S. Army and its Iraqi allies are killing [and detaining] as many insurgents as reports indicate they are per month, why is the insurgency intensifying instead of collapsing? ”
For God’s sake, didn’t the MSM realize the Pentagon was spewing pure crap for the last two years? I’ve never believed goverment statistics on the number of so-called Iraqi insurgents killed or captured. Finally, someone took the trouble to write about it.
The reporter, Martin Sieff, takes care not to baldly accuse the U.S. of killing and detaining innocent civilians but I think that’s exactly what is occurring. There’s been more than a few accusations of unwarranted and/or illegal detentions. If the U.S. is torturing and murdering innocent civilians in Iraqi and Afghani prisons, how can you trust them to tell the truth about civilian casualties on the battlefield?
Commemorations of Rascism on the Anniversary of the Nagasaki Bombing
I hate Dec. 7th, Aug. 6th and Aug. 9th.
I’m Japanese-American and I’ve had to put up a lot of rascist bullshit, particularly on those days.
Guess what. I’m not responsible for what Japan did during World War II. I’m not responsible for the trade deficit or the fact that Japanese cars are better than American cars. Yet, somehow, people feel compelled to argue with me over those issues. Even some relatively intelligent people have done it, which points out that prejudice can infect nearly anyone.
On a few occasions, people have spontaneously decided to tell me about Japanese atrocities during WWII; excuse me, but I’m fairly well educated and I already know about it.
Those war crimes are often used to rationalize the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. ‘Japan deserved it because of the Rape of Nanking and Pearl Harbor’. Too bad those Japanese civilians bore little responsibility for those actions. The media always presents documentaries and news reports on the Aug. 6th anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing but,to avoid accusations of sympathizing with the enemy, they always feel compelled to trot out the usual stories of Japanese war crimes. Exactly how does one atrocity excuse another?
P.S. Please support Cindy Sheehan and her protest against Bush and the Iraq War.
Last Bird Fluffing
Last Girl Dancing by Holly Lisle
My pal Debi keeps telling me I should write romance, but I don’t know. She’s basing her opinion on the fact I can write hot bird-on-bird and fly-on-spider sex scenes. But, really — how tough is that?
The real challenge would be to create believable (human) male and female characters*, get ’em to fall in love, and have the reader care about them. I’ve never tried this, but I suspect it’s a lot tougher than it sounds. For one thing, I’d have to crawl into a female skin and imagine sexual attraction from a female POV. I don’t have any homophobic resistance to doing this; I’m just not sure I could. Men are . . . well, you know. Icky.
Holly Lisle takes on the challenge in her “police procedural romance” (one Amazon reviewer’s description of the genre) Last Girl Dancing. Lisle shifts back and forth between her female and male leads, and does a respectable job on both. I liked Jess Brubaker, the aggressive workaholic cop who finds herself with a dirty, dangerous, and soon to be very personal assignment. Jess is beautiful, sexy, self-sufficient, but also broken, emotionally wounded. Thirteen years ago, her twin sister went missing while working as a stripper. Jess went into the police force to find Ginny, but she hasn’t been successful. Now she’s being asked to pose as an exotic dancer to track down a serial killer specializing in strippers.
I also liked Hank Kamian, the male lead. Hank, a martial arts instructor, is a former Ranger who sustained some serious wartime injuries. He also carries more than a few emotional scars, but he doesn’t piss and moan about things. Hank is a man’s man. Think Clint Eastwood circa High Plains Drifter, or Mel Gibson circa Road Warrior, before he got all flaky. Think Jake Barnes with functional equipment.
Hank’s a wee bit psychic: enough that he gets strong (and usually reliable) impressions from crime scenes, not so much that the story is over by page 20. Part of the fun here is watching Hank use his power to try to figure out Jess in the early phases of their relationship. A creep would use this knack to bed every woman in sight, but not Hank. He’s a good man — no, wait. He’s a Good Man, and it’s clear women readers are supposed to dig him.
Lisle does a great job setting and sustaining a creepy atmosphere. I didn’t care much for the mystery, but I’m not a big fan of police procedurals. (Full disclosure: I think I’ve read two or three in my life.) I read it for the romance, and enjoyed it as such. Romantic tension mounts steadily as Hank and Jess circle each other, trying their best to avoid the plunge. But, as the Borg say, resistance is futile. After they’ve hooked up, we have the added anxiety of (1) hoping Jess doesn’t get herself killed, and (2) hoping the murder investigation doesn’t trash their fragile relationship.
So: could I do this? According to what I’ve read over at Smart Bitches, there are a few men who write romance (under female pseudonyms, apparently). I wonder how their work differs from that of their female counterparts. And are they all gay?
I thought of a more interesting question, but I’m going to preface it with an observation. Men crave love and affection every bit as much as women. Why, then, is there no male counterpart to the romance genre? In other words: male protag seeks and ultimately finds love, aimed at a male readership. Women would read it. But how would you get men to read it, too?
. . . Without putting lots of sex in it, cuz that would be cheating.
D.
*One each, naturally, to keep the grand old dames of the RWA well plastered with frigid rictuses.
Baghdad Rambo
Frequently, human males overdose on testosterone, especially the now ubiquitous Hollywood variety. That makes them susceptible to stupid, macho fantasies. They don’t even have the intelligence of male tarantulas who know they should run away from the large, toothy shadow that DOESN’T have good (or amorous) intentions.
The machismo stereotype has probably existed since time immemorial with groups of neolithic hunters bragging about their hunting prowess and the mastodon that got away, continuing through Greek warlords claiming to be the sons of Zeus, and finally arriving in blockbuster films with muscle-bound, steroid-swigging, action stars whose “stunts” are the product of CGI effects. These manly men conquer armies single-handed.
The hero needs a suitable villain, one with equal proficiency. And if he doesn’t exist, you gotta make him up.
Have you heard about Juba, the Baghdad Sniper? He’s killed or injured dozens of U.S. soldiers over the past year or so, becoming something of a legend for his skill.
So, who is this highly trained expert marksman? A former Republican Guard soldier from Saddam’s elite forces?
Apparently, he’s a former calligrapher and shepherd who deserted from the Iraqi Army several years ago. He picked up his expertise from web searches, playing video games and watching ‘Enemy at the Gates’, ‘The Deer Hunter’, and ‘JFK’.
This is hardly the first time the enemy has been romanticized. For example, the Viet Cong were acclaimed for their hit and run tactics, and the vast tunnel systems they built which enabled them to plan their operations. This elusive and deadly enemy was scared to death of the U.S. Marines who were viewed as gigantic, powerful and deadly fighters.
Obviously, it is easy to inflate the abilities of your enemy; your allies are a different matter.
During the siege of Tora Bora, the U.S. decided to pay Afghani warlords to capture al Qaeda fighters rather than risk U.S. troops. Afghan mercenaries were less than impressed by U.S. Special Forces who they considered to be cowardly for showing fear.
I don’t believe that U.S. Special Forces are inordinately fearful; the accusation of cowardice may be more a question of a cultural misunderstanding rather than courage. However, the Afghani people do have a 2300-year history of bravery in battle going back to Alexander the Great’s invasion in 328 BC.
So, to steal from Sun Tzu, understand your enemy, understand yourself and understand your allies. Since we did’t understand the Iraqis or the Afghani people, we were at least half-way screwed from the moment we invaded their countries. Bush has completed the process by continuing our ignorance so now we’re totally screwed.
God, the greatest, miracle worker
Yes, that is punctuated correctly.
Those of you who know me are probably thinking, “OMG, what’s he done now.” Nothing, nothing. Only my job. And yet that was enough to earn me those three complements today.
It wasn’t even, “He’s a god.” It was, “He’s God.”
The lightning bolt has not struck yet, but let me tempt Him further. If I’m Him, why haven’t I allowed Me to win the bloody Super Lotto? Why can’t I heal my wife and son of their ailments (not to mention my loathesome summer cold)? Oh, yeah — I work in mysterious ways. I should know better than to question Myself.
Profound question for the evening: why is that the only pronouns we capitalize are for Him — the Big Guy — with one exception: I, I, I, I, I?
Back to my happy patients. As much as I’d like to believe I’m doing that spectacular a job, I know better. Truth is, many patients (especially those who haven’t been burned yet by the medical community) really want to believe this. A German friend once told me that in his country, there’s a phrase for doctors: Demigotts im weiss* = demigods in white. Folks want to think we’re either channeling God or we have a direct line to Him, no call waiting. It’s comforting to think that.
Kevin Sorbo as Hercules: another demigod in white
Scarier is the fact that many doctors believe this, too. Even those of us who understand our limitations have to admit we didn’t have the cleanest reasons for joining the biz. Yes, sure, I wanted to help people. But didn’t my fear of sickness and death have more than a little to do with it, too? And don’t I have (at some level) the irrational idea that my MD gives me a Platinum Card with the Lord? That I can, in fact, put off my own death indefinitely, just by being a doctor?
In the face of all this psychological weirdness, it’s tough as hell being agnostic.
And for you newbies, please don’t ask me if I’ve been saved.
So I feel the need to come out and say this, say it in supersized font, even though the folks who read this blog are smart enough to know it already. But here goes.
Doctors are human.
Pretty scary, huh?
D.
*Gabriele — did I remember that right?
I am Bluestar.
Yea, though we duggest ourselves a mighty hole of debt, we compromised not for our killer range. Meet the 36″ RNB Bluestar, the primo bitchenest 36″ range on the planet. “Largest oven capacity available on a 36″ range; the most powerful burner available, 22,000 BTU; accomodates a full-size commercial 18″ x 26″ baking sheet; 24″ depth.”
This range is for a real kitchen where a real man is gonna cook, not one of those poofy, “Oh, look how rich I am!” show kitchens. Hot enough to transmute base metals into gold, durable enough to survive wormhole travel; and it gives sensual massages, too.
Today we checked the status of the Money Pit and saw, in the middle of our torn-up living room floor, Our Precious, still wrapped in her factory plastic, a smug vision of culinary voluptuousness. “I am Bluestar,” she whispered. “Thirty years from now, when you’re still working nights in the ER to pay off your quintuple mortgage, you’ll come home and see me, every bit as beautiful and functional as I am today, and you’ll know it has all been worthwhile.”
“I’ve been burned before,” I said. “Say you won’t hurt me like the others.”
“You know I can’t promise you that.”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even see straight.
“I’ll burn you worse than any woman has ever burned you before,” she continued. “You know I will. But I can promise you one thing: I’ll always be here for you.”
“You will?”
“You gorgeous man: as long as I have gas in my pipes, I’ll be the hottest thing you’ve ever touched. My love for you will never cool.”
And, somehow, those words made it all worthwhile.
D.
The Political Bedfellows list grows longer
Newest additions to the family:
Yep, Another Goddamned Blog, wherein author Jurassicpork skewers the skewer-worthy in today’s Assclowns of the Week awards ceremony. Make sure you scroll down to his Thursday post on Unintelligent Design — that Planet of the Apes pic is priceless.
In The News Blog, Steve & Jen fight the good fight deconstructing the daily news.
The Actual Bedfellows list remains unchanged, but I suspect that’s how Karen would prefer to have it.
I was up late last night playing doctor, so this is what ya get, fiends. LINKS. This is also the first weekend in ages when I haven’t worked on my novel, but that may not be such a bad thing. Get a life, and all that. (Although I’m not sure seven hours at the fair is what you’d call living.)
D.
Dubya Plays Limbo
How low can he go? The Ap/Ipsos poll, undertaken Aug. 1-3 , showed support for the Iraq War at 38%; previous polling this summer showed support in the low 40s.
Newsweek’s poll, Aug. 2-4, had a whopping 61% of the public disapproving of his handling of the war. 34% approved, down from 41% a month ago.
18 U.S. soldiers died on Aug. 3rd which is likely to have affected the Newsweek poll to some extent. The Iraqi insurgent groups have access to media reports; undoubtedly, they know how the U.S. public is reacting. I’m wondering if they’re planning another big attack.
Review of Asimov’s, September 2005
Check out my review over at Tangent Online.
Jake and I spent SEVEN HOURS at the Del Norte County Fair today, so forgive me if the creative centers of my brain are temporarily neutered. Read the post below. Now, that one was funny.
D.