Forgive me a little victory dance . . .
AP Tally: Obama Clinches Democratic Nomination
In other words, it’s
Obama ’08!
Below the fold: nine reasons to run far, far away from John McCain.
My political compass
This was fun. I’m somewhat more libertarian than Ghandi, somewhere in the neighborhood of the Dalai Lama. I can live with that!
Economic Left/Right: -5.12
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -6.36
Here’s the comparison:
I have one concern: how did they get George W. Bush to answer all those questions? Some of those words had two, maybe even three syllables.
D.
Great cover, but what is it?
I’m beginning to wonder if Florence Stonebreaker’s books are all about the covers and the cover copy. They’re not erotica; sex, when it happens, seems to be rough and joyless, more about the power relationship between the two participants than about pleasure. There’s an attention to psychology in each book, a lack of humor, and a grittiness that leads me to think these two books are neither romance nor erotica. They’re chick noir.
In Nurses Wild, for example, Nurse Velma’s having an affair with a married doc, Dr. Gregg; meanwhile, she has to deal with the unwanted attentions of Dr. Loerb while trying to avoid her estranged husband, Kenny. Velma separated from Kenny because he took all her money and cheated on her. But as a flashback in Chapter 2 relates, she just can’t get rid of the bastard. He barges his way into her place in order to drink her booze, take her money, and take her body, too.
In the end she simply lay quietly and accepted him, knowing what his frenzy was all about. This was not love and in a sense, not even passion. This was the anger of a rejected, frustrated weakling of a man, trying to gain some small feeling of triumph by the subjection and penetration of her body.
Pop psychology, perhaps, but it was more than I expected; and it gets better a few minutes later, when Kenney gets his second wind. (Kind of amazing, in my opinion, given how much he’s boozing it up.)
“You’ve had your pound of flesh and more,” she told him. “Hit the road.”
“What I had was a joke. Listen, lady. I don’t want to be despised. Before I leave this house I want to be treated — just once — like a husband. After that you can go to your floozie’s hell with your doctor boy friend.”
Aghast, she realized that he had sensed and been affronted by her passivity when he possessed her. She would not be rid of him until she had given him back the illusion of an ego.
That’s what amazed me: not just the marital rape, but this second subjugation, where to avoid his abuse she has to forget her hatred for the man and conjure her earlier feelings, the feelings she had for him when they were young.
I haven’t finished either book, but I’ve skipped around quite a bit. Stonebreaker has a problem with narrative drive. I can’t seem to develop much concern for Velma, for example, perhaps because she’s such a victim — and the suspense of “let’s see if Velma grows a spine or not” really doesn’t grip me.
Kitty, the Wild French Nurse, might be a more compelling character. You have to give kudos to a nurse who, in the first few pages, expresses her contempt for her patients and her wish they would die:
These loathsome old men, calling her baby, cutie, or just hey, you pretty one — they ought to be thinking about their funeral expenses, not ogling the breasts and backside of a good-looking nurse. These horrid lumps of lewd flesh who assumed that the good-looking nurse was on call to serve every single need of theirs. Every need.
At times Kitty could tolerate them, finding them more amusing than annoying. But there were other times when she wished they would all die like sick dogs. This was one of those times.
Yeah, maybe I ought to set Velma aside and spend my time with Kitty. Venom over victim.
D.
PS: For those of you who aren’t tired of my Hillary-bashing ways, here’s a rec for Young Hillary Clinton.
You mean 300 was serious?
What I do to cheer myself up . . . look for YouTube parodies.
This first one is, well, indescribable.
And then there’s 300 vs. Army of Darkness, and best of all, the incomparable Lisa Nova does 300.
Honorable mention to the Invader Zim version.
D.
Random kvetch with gratuitous toe
First, the gratuitous camel toe, courtesy of Alicia Keys.
Meh. Could be worse.
So maybe you’re wondering what the hell is going on with me. I surely am. I haven’t written anything worthwhile in a couple of months, and I have little or no interest in blogging, commenting on blogs, or even answering emails.
It’s this job search. Once things are settled, I’ll have lots to write about, but for the time being I have to keep my mouth shut. I have this paranoid delusion that potential employers might be reading my blog. If I tip my hand, I’ll lose any possible advantage I might have in negotiations. I can’t even kvetch about the folks who have pissed me off, since even that tips my hand to some degree.
But it’s ugly, ugly, ugly. If I were willing to move anywhere in the country, we’d be in the catbird‘s seat, but we’re not so we aren’t. I have requirements. My potential employers have requirements. We’re hoping the Venn intersection won’t be a null set.
It’s looking like we’re going to Santa Rosa, but that isn’t a done deal yet. Details, details. And if we do go, we’ll have to sell this house. Fast. Which means we’ll likely need to sell it at 10 to 20 percent below its true market value.
Which hurts.
Oh, hell, it all hurts. Leaving our familiar environment, leaving my patients, taking the inevitable financial hit (which, hopefully, will be only temporary), stepping out onto the precipice . . .
Yeah. Like that.
D.
Hillary’s Sunset Boulevard
If you’re not familiar with the ending of Sunset Boulevard, you might want to check this YouTube video first.
From the incredibly talented Lisa Nova, Hillary’s Sunset Boulevard.
Let’s say it all together . . .
Bwahahaahaaahaaa!
D.
My newest Stonebreaker
Wild French Nurse, by Florence Stonebreaker.
Do you see the error in composition?
My answer to that question in just one moment. First, from the back cover:
NAKED PASSIONS . . . swept through her mind as she tried to conquer her strange desires and twisted lusts by running from each man she met. Until the strain becomes too much for the French angel of mercy and she is forced by vicious circumstances into an explosive affair. Her wild and intimate revelries with various men lead her to the violent and sinful conclusion of her passionate . . . LOVE TRYSTS!
And I still don’t know WTF this book will be about. It’s bound to be violent and explosive, though.
The error in composition, in my opinion: His right leg seems to continue on as her left forearm. If you look at it that way, it seems like there’s a tiny man with his legs wrapped around the Angel of Mercy’s waist.
Maybe that is her strange desire . . . a twisted lust for LITTLE MEN!
D.
They seem cute . . .
until you see their teeth.
(From shhexycorin’s photostream.)
Still wiped. Still stressed.
That is all.
D.
Geography question
I’m afraid we’re still very much in open-minded job search mode. With that in mind, Karen just asked me a question I can’t answer.
Perhaps some of you know the answer.
Aside from the Pacific Northwest, are there any other areas of the country which have good weather?
Here are our requirements:
- Summers should have highs averaging no higher than 80F. Occasional spikes are fine.
- We could tolerate snow in the winter, but please, no arctic climates. Much below 20F and I think we’ll be very, very unhappy.
- For Karen’s health, Jake’s education, and my mental well being, we need to be near a major metropolitan center.
We may yet choose one of the standing offers (in case you administrator types are lurking out there). But you see, we’ve rushed into things before, and as we get older and wiser we get more deliberative, too.
That’s all for tonight. My mind is still humming from travel, from the job search, from the vicissitudes of this, that, and the other thing. I’m tired.
D.
My picks for Obama’s VP.
Not an hour goes by without someone posting a veep diary at Daily Kos.
So I decided to do one of my own . . .
D.