Clemson player scares opposition with his eyes

At left: Clemson offensive lineman Kalon Davis, helping to start a new fashion trend. (Still photo from video at Sportstalksc.com.)












Clemson football player Kalon Davis intimidates other players with his spooky eyes! He got the idea for "blizzard contacts" from his favorite rapper, Hopsin. They are currently getting mixed reviews on the team.

Mandrallius Robinson writes in the Greenville News:

CLEMSON — Something special was in Kalon Davis’ eyes.

Davis, a senior offensive guard, reported for offseason workouts at the Clemson practice facility with an ominous stare.

It was more striking than a glare of focus and fervor. It was slightly less unnerving than sleep crusted in the corners of his eyelids.

It halted warm-ups that morning, as reactions ranged from concern …

“I thought his eyes were really messed up,” running back C.J. Davidson said.

to awe …

“They’re kind of cool, and they’re weird,” center Ryan Norton said.

... to dread.

“The most awful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Clemson coach Dabo Swinney said. “I was standing on the paw and looking over at him hit the pad, and he just freaked me out. I didn’t know what it was until I got up on him, and I was like, ‘What is in your eyes?’ ”

With a coy grin, Davis gladly answered as he has for countless curious passersby.

“They are called blizzard contacts,” he said.

The only color on most contact lenses is a slight tint intended to assist the search during the certain disaster that one falls to the bathroom floor. Stylish contact customers alter their eye color with hazel, green or blue lenses.

However, blizzard contacts are only for the adventurous. They shade the iris white, yielding an eerie look that falls somewhere between startled nocturnal cat and zombie film extra.

“I just wanted to mix it up and cause a little stir,” said Davis, who borrowed the idea from his favorite rap artist, Hopsin, who sports similar contacts during performances and interviews.

“I told him, ‘You better not walk around campus with those eyes on,’ ” Norton said. “ ‘Those are pretty scary. You’re going to scare some people.’ ”

“Usually, I just get a double-take, and then they smile and walk away,” Davis said. “I always get a smile. That’s a good sign, I guess.”

As if his 6-foot-5, 338-pound build were not menacing enough, Davis wonders if his new stare will intimidate foes at the line of scrimmage. Defensive end Tavaris Barnes said the icy eyes may be more mystifying than terrifying.

Either way, Davis will catch some tackles off guard.

“I honestly can’t look at this dude in his face eye to eye,” Barnes said. “It’s freaky, man. Honestly, to me, it’s not intimidating, but it’s confusing. I just can’t do it.”

The contacts may make Davis stand out, but apparently, they fit perfectly with his personality.

“He’s a weird guy,” Davidson said. “He’s going to do what he wants to do. That’s just him. That’s Kalon.”

“If you know Kalon, he’s kind of goofy like that,” Swinney said. “He is one of the more interesting personalities on our team.”

Davis is a Chester native, avid soccer player, ardent video gamer, dog lover and Japanese major. This summer, he will travel to Japan for an internship.

“Hopefully, he leaves those contacts at home,” Swinney said, “because he’s a scary-looking guy as it is heading over there. That’s his swag, I guess. He’s the funky contact guy.

“I’m hoping he loses them between now and fall.”

The eerie eyes may be temporary, but through this spring, Davis aims to earn a permanent spot in Clemson’s starting line. He has trained primarily at right guard but also sparingly at left.

“It gives me a little versatility,” Davis said. “When it comes down to it, wherever I’ve got to be, I’m able to be there.”

“I’m proud of his development,” Swinney said. “He’s come into his own, and he’s sowing his oats a little bit -- and I’m feeling good about his décor.”

Decades ago, sitting around with some folks in New York, we tried to brainstorm "fashion of the future"--we erroneously believed punk had exhausted all of the gonzo-possibilities. Me and another guy said if hair can be blue, purple, red or magenta, so can EYES, and we both predicted that different colors of contact lenses--such as red, lavender, white, pink--would one day be in fashion. (Science-fiction writer Thomas Disch, may his soul rest in peace, wrote a novel in which he predicted various skin colors would also one day be a fashion, and I think he was onto something.)

Its taken us a long time to be right, but here we are!

I love Kalon's lenses, but I liked punk fashion too.

The problem with the Men's Rights movement, continued

A hysterical, silly young feminist at a University of Toronto demonstration was caught on video, shrieking that men's rights guys are "fucking scum" and so on. The prominent Men's Rights blog A Voice For Men has identified her by name, and has commenced harassing her to the point that she has already shut down her Twitter account.

There are 322 comments (as of this writing) applauding the stalking and harassment of this very silly, thoroughly unlucky girl. They are proud of their terrorism and exhorting their readers to go even further.

This kind of thing is why the Southern Poverty Law Center called the Men's Rights Movement (MRM) "a hate movement"--the deliberate and vicious targeting and threatening of feminists who annoy them in some specific (and usually silly) fashion.

Which brings me to another point: As in the whole Rebecca Watson/ELEVATORGATE foofaraw (and that threatens a monster-sized digression all by itself; here is a brief synopsis of the event), these incidents always seem to involve young, thin, attractive women. What's up with that? Are ugly, old or fat women/feminists just not as much fun to harass and rail against? Why not?

It really is rather striking, once you notice it.

For example, on page one of the popular A Voice For Men blog (whom I have criticized here for trashing older, unattractive women, simply for existing) there is a "Featured Offenders" category, of "women bigots" who have said sundry man-hating stuff. Notice every single one of these offenders is very attractive, white, young, and usually blonde. Hm.

Is man-hating somehow more egregious and criminal when coming from young, good-looking gals? I guess so.

The hysterical young woman from Toronto is, you guessed it, quite lovely. Other hysterical girls in the video, not nearly as attractive, did not even get noticed. Somehow, this woman is the one that rates their ire.

I find this a trifle obvious... embarrassingly so. Are they aware of their bias? Are they aware that women are aware of it, and therefore do not take their ire seriously since it seems to be targeting only those gals that make them hot? The ones they especially WANT to behave?

For instance, my own criticism of AVFM did not even rate a reply. (I assume it's because I admitted to being post-menopausal; I have long noticed that criticisms of ageism are not taken seriously by the MRM.) Meanwhile, other critical feminists rate all kinds of extended attention. For instance, they are STILL obsessed with every single thing the aforementioned Rebecca Watson does, while the fat girls remain ignored. (Just like in every other aspect of life.) [1]

NOTE: If you want your movement and criticism of man-hating to be taken seriously, stop focusing only on those criticisms from poster gals you find sexy, okay?

Further, check out the comments in the thread about the hysterical young woman... it only takes TWO (count em, TWO) comments, before they are trashing Marxism and the entire left. Amazing, huh? It is a recurrent theme. I am not sure how Marxism made the young lady crazy and man-hating, but the commies MUST have had something to do with it. [2]

THIS, once again, is why Men's Rights is increasingly regarded as a hate movement, which incidentally, is what the young woman in question was getting so hysterical about: A speech by Men's Rights advocate Warren Farrell. [3] On AVFM, they have written:

[young woman's name] apparently had a twitter account (which comes up on a Google of her name), which has now been shut down. But there appear to be traces of her in multiple net locations. This should be quite enough for our rainbow coalition of agents to do their work.

And we will continue to do ours to bring all of this to the light of public attention, including her listing on Register-her.com.[4]

Doesn't that sound like a gang of men going after one woman? What "work" do they refer to, exactly? (I like how they leave it to your imagination.)

The author of this hit-piece, Paul Elam, once wrote (in a comment addressed to a feminist): "I find you so pernicious and repugnant that the idea of fucking your shit up gives me an erection." [5] (Warren Farrell hasn't said anything that bad, has he?) As I wrote in my first post on AVFM, they believe that all feminists are "termites"--with no exceptions.

My question: Do they think this nasty, bully-behavior is helping men in any way? Really? How?!? Believe me, it doesn't. Even though I am a mere termite, I really would like the positive aspects of this movement to succeed, for many reasons. I do worry about the emotional lives of modern men and boys. I am more worried this week than I have been in a long time.

Which leads me to another crucial point: Do you realize the HARM that this piece will cause, during a week like this? In case you haven't heard: A marginalized man, cut off from mainstream society, had a very violent meltdown and engaged in mass murder... and as a result, all quiet, marginalized men will be looked at with heightened suspicion. YOU ARE MAKING THIS WORSE. YOU ARE PUTTING CERTAIN MEN AT RISK, approving anti-social, stalking behavior and telling them it is good to engage in--actually giving outsiders who want to belong, the cool label of "Rainbow coalition of agents" and calling stalking "work" instead of what it is: stalking.

Let me make it clear: Men will be dragged into interrogation rooms over this. YOU ARE WRONG TO ENCOURAGE THIS SHIT!

Please cease and desist this kind of behavior, gentlemen. This is not men's "rights"--this is about your harassment of an attractive girl who grabbed your attention in a video. (Why her and not the others?) This is about getting even, this is not about asserting rights.

And if you do not cease and desist, please understand that you ARE a hate movement. This is no different than tracking abortion doctors to their homes and taking photographs of their families! This is what a hate movement does.

~*~



[1] One sensible and well-founded complaint from the Men's Movement is that women will not ask men for dates or "approach" men. However, this doesn't refer to fat girls; I was informed by one Men's Rights Advocate that fat girls are the frequent exceptions to this rule, since they often DO approach men... in fact, in many social settings, asking men for dates is considered "fat girl behavior" and even more stigmatized than ever, for this reason. (Who knew?)

In short, they DO NOT want to date the fat girls, so these fat girls' repeated "approaches" don't count... stop bringing them up! (Stop talking about fat girls, goddammit!) They are not talking about you, fat girl, they are talking about this hysterical, pretty, thin girl from Toronto, whom they want to make behave.

Her misbehavior BOTHERS THEM A LOT... yours and mine? Not so much.

[2] The increasing right-wing drift of the MRM is also plenty disturbing, and mostly unacknowledged by its leaders. Although it is notable that many are atheists and active in the atheist movement, which I find interesting.

As a result, there is a growing rift in the atheism/skeptic community, known as "Atheism Plus"--which would be the progressive atheists (i.e. atheism PLUS other social issues). Atheism "by itself" would be the standard old-school, white men's/Richard Dawkins variety.

Needless to say, the MRM is not fond of Atheism Plus, and they largely consider it a dangerous feminist/lefty/queer ideological incursion into the sacred atheist territory of Rationalism and Reason. (You know, the kind of 'Reason' that goes after flakey feminists in Toronto who shriek at demonstrations and are unlucky enough to be pretty and thus rate extended video coverage.)

[3] I exchanged very nice correspondence with Warren Farrell back when I was about 15 years old, after having seen him on the Phil Donahue Show. He was very kind, friendly, positive and encouraging of my feminism. I kept the letter for a long time and thumb-tacked it to my bulletin board, right alongside David Cassidy and Iggy Pop, which is why I remember it. (This would have been 1972 or 73.) Therefore, I have nothing against Farrell. In fact, I left a comment on YouTube, agreeing that "quote-mining" is a negative tactic and needs to end. In that case, I hope these terribly fair-minded Men's Rights fellas will stop quote-mining Andrea Dworkin, too.

Can we make a deal on that?

[4] Register-Her started as a website naming women who make false rape/domestic violence allegations. Apparently, it has expanded to include any women who offend the MRM.

[5] Speaking of quote-mining, I can see why Paul Elam wouldn't be too fond of it.

~*~

EDIT: A Voice for Men has highlighted another shrieking, silly girl at the anti-Warren Farrell rally, so I stand corrected. This one is also named and targeted in the same way as the first silly, shrieking girl:

Additionally, over the next two days, she will be listed on register-her.com as a known bigot, and her image and name will find a place on our display of featured offenders.

And by the way, did I mention? She is also quite beautiful.

I'm sure it's only a coincidence.

My problem with "Men's Rights Advocates"

I try to read the Men's Rights Activists... I really do. I try to see their point of view. I have spent hours arguing with the ones who are willing to argue.

And... I... well, I hardly know what to say. Because I usually can't get past the first paragraphs of what the MRAs write. I can't even get to the heart of their arguments, assuming they have any.

For example, take this blog post from earlier this year (recently emailed to me), titled I am Schrodinger's Rapist. This piece was based on a popular, widely-circulated feminist essay titled Schrodinger's Rapist, which was about women's fear of strange men. And just like in hip-hop, a witty "reply post" was inevitably required.

Although I had read the original, I had never read the "reply"--which is why my correspondent just HAD to email it to me. It is definitive!--he promised.

Really? Oh, dear God.

This is my ongoing dilemma with the men intent on improving what we here at DEAD AIR call, The Male Dilemma. I can't read beyond the sarcastic intro-paragraphs of their blog posts.

From the above link:

Hello, average looking, aging, perimenopausal female hipster. Yes, you with the horn rim glasses.

Translation: She's old, and therefore unattractive.

Ageism is a given with many of the MRAs, of course. I've been insulted with "You're old!" more times than I can count. Now, just why this is supposed to be automatically bad is never explained in depth. It just IS, grandma! (When I fully admit that I am old, it means they do not have to reply to me, since I cease to exist.)

An old and/or unattractive woman is not worth taking seriously. She is dowdy, and thus unimportant. She has mousy glasses.

Not that men only judge women by their appearance, you understand! In MRA-universe, this is a SEXIST thing to say; you are a man-hater if you suggest that! Therefore the MRAs can still attack women's appearance with impunity, while trashing you as a man-hater for suggesting they shouldn't do it. Good work if you can get it.

What's wrong with being an average-looking, aging, perimenopausal (us awful post-menopausal women are not even important enough to address AT ALL) hipster? Is it supposed to be self-evident that such a person is simply bad, just from the description? We certainly need LOTS MORE of them here in upstate South Carolina/Bob Jones University-land!

Wait, I think this means the writer of this piece comes from a cool place on the coasts with lots of these people. But don't you DARE call him privileged, you anti-male feminist, you!

Yes those frames which were chic-retro back in the 90′s

OH MY GOD! An unfashionable woman! How horrible!

But as stated above, no anti-male comments about how men judge women purely on appearances, that is SEXIST AGAINST MEN! Man-hater!

Besides, you aren't fashionable enough to have an opinion.

- yes, you, the one drinking soy-milk latte and clutching a purse-sized single-use can of pepper spray in a white-knuckled grip behind your pant-leg. Yes, hello: I’m Schrodinger’s rapist.

Now soy-milk latte is bad, too? Can I ask why? Is this another self-evident thing on the coasts? (For the record, here in upstate SC, we can hardly find a place around here to buy one!)

Oh I get it: she is too unattractive to be raped, so its funny that she has a can of pepper spray! HAHA!

That MRA humor! Ain't they just a HOOT?!

Now I know you’re neurotic and probably taking mood stabilizing drugs, so you might be a little confused. I’m not an actual rapist–well, I might be–but what I mean to say is, I’m a man, and therefore, only a rapist in potential, since I haven’t – you know, raped anyone – that you know of.

Ah, so she is CRAZY, too! So she is DOUBLY ridiculous... or should I say triple, quadruple? Let's tally it up: old, unattractive, unfashionable, drinking the wrong thing... now she is ON SOME LOONEY MEDS, so that makes her quintuply uncool, doesn't it?

Insult after insult after insult... and look at the kind of insults they are.

If you thought I would read that last part of your paragraph and take it seriously after all the insults (assuming I got that far)... why would you think that? You are too busy assuring me how superior you are. I am not GOOD ENOUGH to read your post, obviously!

And after all, I’m a rather bland looking fellow, even though on the daytime TV you’ve allowed to shape so much of your concept of reality, they always seem to have an average looking actor playing the sexual predator role don’t they? Your fear sells more nail polish, Paxil and granola bars than your confidence does.

Daytime TV? Ah, a dimwitted hausfrau! It is simply assumed that she is home watching the dreaded dumbass DAYTIME TV! Dumb bitch!

But don't you call him a sexist, since it is sexist of you to say that.

And the references to nail polish (superficial old biddy) and Paxil (crazy old biddy) and granola (just plain OLD biddy, and likely a hippie too) finish her off.

If the author included a good point in there about TV-casting, and I think he did, I was too busy noticing the insults to catch it.

Remember, I’m not a real man, I’m a probabilistic man. I’m a cloud of possibilities. So here’s another possibility to consider: I’m a peaceful, loving, compassionate human being, and I’m an adult. And despite being subjected to more than a decade of physical, emotional and sexual abuse as a child, I am now totally repulsed by the prospect of violence and abuse – even your hypothetical, probabilistic speculations of violence and abuse.

Repulsed!

Now, since you have alerted me that I am a ridiculous stereotype not to be taken seriously, and likely a crazy, drugged-up hippie who is drinking THE WRONG THING... why would I ever think this about you?

You have just engaged in ageism, stereotyping, cultural superiority and prejudice... and now you want me to know you are peaceful, loving and compassionate? Are you serious?

Why do you judge women negatively based on their advanced age, what they drink, their uncool glasses, their viewing habits and if they might have depression... and then claim to be a compassionate guy?

Do you understand how funny that is?

Do you understand that I have already stopped reading?

Yes, you, Miss LonelyHearts, you who have declared yourself my humble instructor – and who have given to my kindness to children and animals, and to my donations to charity, your approval.

First though, what part of appointing yourself my instructor and judge lead to you also declare yourself humble? What combination of diazapam, seraquel, lorazapam, trazadone and the four Grey Goose martinis you had at lunch led you to imagine your approval or your disapproval was of even slight interest to anyone?

More ableist insults of people who use meds... and by now, I think it's plenty obvious this author is in Canada, since nobody in the USA can afford all of that unless they live on Park Avenue.

But really, this is the kind of nastiness one continually reads on MRA websites. This particular writer recently called all feminists "termites" (and he specified he meant ALL OF US--no exceptions!) on his radio broadcast, and I had actually been listening with interest to some of his economic points (about unemployment) up to that point.

But hey, TERMITES? Really? That was that. Click, off went the broadcast. I guess I never will know the rest of his ideas. Just like I will never read the rest of his post.

I don't think postmenopausal southern termites (that can't find a decent soy-latte anywhere) are his intended audience, anyway.

I do worry about the folks who are, though.

Fun with anti-feminists

At left: Falls Park hydrangeas! Purty!



Big news today: In case you didn't know, the skinnier a woman is, the more money she makes. By contrast, overweight men have higher salaries than thinner men. Go on, you say, they actually required some sociological study to prove that?

Apparently so:

A new study reveals that thinner women -- and larger men -- tend to make the most money.

"Early Show" Contributing Correspondent Taryn Winter Brill reported new research from the University of Florida (pdf) finds that, for women, corporate America is just like a catwalk -- the smaller your waist -- the bigger your paycheck. But if you're a man looking to snag that corner office, don't worry about skipping dessert. Thinner men actually make less money.

According to the study, women who weighed 25 pounds less than the group norm earned about $16,000 more per year. A woman 25 pounds above the group norm earned about $14,000 less. Thinner men, on the other hand, made almost $9,000 less than their average male co-worker.

One of those things I didn't need a study to tell me. But the right-wingers and anti-feminists demand copious data for every single political assertion, therefore DEAD AIR will carefully tuck this one away for the next unpleasant occasion one of them attempts to argue that women have it made in the shade, sitting at home and madly munching on bon-bons.

Speaking of which...

Ballgame, annoying moderator at the contentious anti-feminist blog FEMINIST CRITICS, self-righteously howls in indignation when he believes he is banned by a pro-feminist men's blog. Positively bug-eyed over his ill treatment, he writes:

Still reluctant to believe that a critical-but-respectful comment had been purged, or that I had been banned on the basis of that comment, I scoured the site’s comment policy and discovered two things. One, TGMP [The Good Men Project] bars “comparisons to genocidal dictators and their brutal regimes.” Two, the site apparently has a ‘one strike and you’re out’ policy.

That's pretty funny, since Ballgame banned me for "critical-but-respectful comments"--but I guess that's somehow different.

The difference is: one standard for men, another for women.

Ballgame banned me simply for disagreeing (loudly) with him and refusing to pinky-swear that I was arguing in "good faith"--when no such promise is extracted from the dozens of offensive Men's Rights Androids that frequent his blog. In fact, these reactionaries can attack feminists with gusto and it's all regarded as hunky-dory by Ballgame. Feminists, however, can not attack back in the same disrepectful tone.

So now Ballgame's karma catches up with him. (giggle)

Oh wait... not to worry, after howling and (most especially) reminding the guys at TGMP that he is an important blogger, they have unbanned him. But of course! Boys will be boys, bros before hos. Etc.

And BTW, exactly WHAT is Ballgame disagreeing with at TGMP? His blog post title says it all: Questioning Sexual slavery. He demands DATA, because simply passing all those female junkies in the red light district and watching Frontline isn't enough for him. (Amnesty International, Shamnesty International!) He is skeptical. Skeptical of what? Women's words, of course.

Might this be an example of "bad faith"? Running a blog called "Feminist Critics" that you pointedly ban feminists from and then writing posts demanding readable DATA before you concede that sexual slavery exists? Uh-huh.

Bad faith = anti-feminism, in its entirety.

Fat chance!

I am persona non grata over at FEMINISTE these days, which is probably a good thing. After reading THIS THREAD, I once again wondered what planet I was on.

What the hell happened to feminism? Has it become all about not hurting people's feelings? No wonder we are stuck with the likes of Nikki Haley and Sarah Palin.

Back in the day, feminism SPECIALIZED in hurting feelings. If you came away from a feminist meeting and your feelings weren't hurt, by God, you hadn't been paying attention! And now, lots of boo-hooing every time someone dares to speak openly and offers a controversial position. Speaking openly is OPPRESSING people, all by itself. Just by posting your opinion on a blog, you are OPPRESSING PEOPLE, didya know that?

Yes, it's our old friends, the FAT ACCEPTANCE MOVEMENT, dictating how we should feel wonderful about our copious, fleshy mounds of fat: FEEL GOOD, GODDAMYA!!! And if you don't, they are gonna FLAME YOU and BLOGSWARM you and GANG-PILE YOU, until you holler uncle... (or AUNT in this case, since we are discussing feminism).

I was trolled and belittled by the Fat Patrol in this thread, and subsequently very dramatically de-linked by a whole bunch of "feminists" in short order (that old phrase "herd of independent minds" just popped into my head, for some reason). So, I guess I can say whatever I like now.

And what I think is: these people are self-important, narcissistic bullies. Even on a thread in which I talk about my own pain, and my accompanying fear that I won't be able to WORK because of knee-pain (you know, my livelihood? The way I actually earn a living?!) --I was attacked for daring to say that. (Luckily, most of these "feminists" don't actually do much political activism in real life; besides the mass-tantrum/de-linking, there haven't been many repercussions, as there might be if they actually DID something.)

I know, you are thinking, wait, I thought feminism was about self-accceptance? And becoming capable and strong and alla that good stuff? Ha! You don't know jack. Online feminism of the blogular variety is increasingly all about belly-aching and declaring how "triggered" you are by every damn thing in the world.

The post, by a writer named Monica, titled "Fat and Health"--which was a good title, I thought--was attacked over and over for daring to reference the BMI (Body Mass Index). As readers here know, I was initially alarmed by my own weight when I cracked the "obese" category at long last, and my BMI shot up past the 30-mark. For me, the BMI was a wake-up call, and I found it helpful. No, it doesn't explain everything about a person. I do hard work, can lift more weight than many guys (she bragged) and I am sure my BMI is higher than the average woman my age, since I have muscle... the women in my family always looked like strapping farmhands with big bones and broad shoulders (evolutionarily chosen to pull plows, one assumes), rather than petite ladies-of-leisure. I have no illusions that I could ever look like a model, or even a "thin" person... but my knees must hold me up, since I intend to work from now on in my chosen field. My ability to work and my livelihood, like most working-class people, is directly connected to my health and fitness. And like most working-class people, I have NO CHOICE... although it sounds like many of these women in this thread DO have a choice. Apparently, fat doesn't interfere in their work and it's of no immediate consequence in their lives. It is something to be celebrated, period. My question: Do you work for a living? Do you do physical work, as most of us in the world must? Because if you don't, I guess whether your knees collapse and can't sustain you for 8 hours, is of no importance.

But you know, I don't like the desk-workers of the world telling me what my priorities must be. (To the desk-denizens: What if I told you carpal-tunnel syndrome is simply nothing to worry about? Would you resent my arrogance in making such a pronouncement?) Do you understand that the rest of us must work, in that case? Why do you want us to work in pain? Just for the sake of political correctness?

I didn't think Monica's post was fat-shaming and fat-hating, but then, I didn't think my post was either. I wanted to give Monica a heads-up: Hey, I wasn't even allowed to write about my OWN obesity without the Fat Acceptance Police trying to run me out of Blogdonia, so I know what they're gonna do to you, girlfriend.

A prize quote from the comments:

I hate this post. I hate you for writing it. I pretty strongly hate feministe for posting it.

I hate most of all the way it tempts us fatties into to going down a self-destructive path of good fattie/bad fattie, and one that is also destructive to other fat people. What I ate today is none of your business...

Actually, what you ate IS my business, since I subsidized it through farm subsidies, and it was probably packaged in a detrimental way to hurt the planet. (Likewise, what I eat is also your business.)

Tangential issue: If you ate animals, it is also my business, since I care about the animals and seek to make it harder and more expensive for you to eat animals, satisfying your palate with cruelty and pain. Meat-eating is also destroying the planet. That makes food everyone's business, since we all live here.

It is also my business how you fuel your car and how you get from one place to another. It is my business how you treat your kids, since they will grow up and impact the world *I* live in. We don't live in a vacuum, although capitalism (through worship of 'privacy' and 'brands') likes to continually assure us that we do, so they can sell us more and more stuff that we won't share with the people we don't know living right next door to us.

But even more than that... notice the "I hate you for writing it"--there is no polite, civil disagreement in Feminist Blogdonia these days. Everything has been ratcheted up a notch. Disagreement is now hate. At the time we can least afford it.

More prize quotes:

what the fuck is this post

what the fuck are your responses to people’s legitimate anger about the legitimately douchey and wrong things you said in this post

...

SO WHAT if some fat people are unhealthy.

SO WHAT if science could prove (with actual solid proof here, not just vague anecdotal evidence and wishful thinking) that being fat correlates directly with unhealthiness.

So what if one given fat person is fat because of “too many donuts” or “not enough exercise.” So what if they then have to use a stroller or wheelchair or mobility aids, or develop health problems or have to stay at the hospital.

It’s ok to be unhealthy.

It’s ok to be disabled. Because, underlying all those criticisms about fat, is also an underlying criticism about disability, particularly when it’s being perceived as a choice.

Oh, bullshit.

Fat, by itself, is not a disability. Indeed, fat can CAUSE disability, which is an issue for those of us who have to work; as we see, this person obviously doesn't. (And if you do work for a living, can I ask how your co-workers will feel when they have to carry your workload while you are hospitalized, et. al.? Will you be interfering with their days off, desired shifts, vacations and suchlike? Of course you will. And do you care about that?)

In case you didn't know, there is a new sheriff in town, and he ain't particularly nice. (You know the sheriff has got his problems too/And he will surely take them out on you) [1] Your health care is going to be paid for by me, and a bunch more people lots more intolerant than me. And yeah, the masses of people paying for government-run health care might just disagree with you a wee bit, if they/we are the ones paying for your hospital stay brought on by "too many donuts"... know what I'm saying? See reference to privacy and capitalism, above. You don't live in a vacuum. Your choices directly impact me and mine impact yours. Otherwise, why vote, why recycle, why bother?

More winning comments:

Fuck you, Monica. Fuck your arrogant tone and FUCK your dismissive attitude.

Gets right to the point!

All these college kids, and it seems not a single one learned to debate properly, reduced to redneck comments like FUCK YOU. Well, at least I didn't waste a half-million dollars and come out more stupid than when I went in...for which small mercies I am grateful.

who the fuck are you that I need to defend my size, my eating habits, and my exercise regiments to, regardless of how healthy or unhealthy they may be.

She'll gobble up as many animals as she pleases, thanks! (What's really bizarre is how many of these comments claim to BE FROM vegans and vegetarians, using the same arguments the carnivores routinely use: My food choices are my business.)

And finally:

Wow, never have I seen such disrespect towards a guest blogger- especially after the Feministe editors were very specific in advance that diverse perspectives would be offered.

Yeah.

This is the way it is on the Left right now, the Glenn Becking of America. We are eating our own; we are devouring the coalition whole.

As I said in this post, it will reach a fever pitch, culminating in the ousting of Obama for a hard-core conservative, and the Left will be "in exile" for about a year, maybe two. I hope it isn't any longer, or that could mean Major Trouble.

This isn't the time to say "fuck you" to each other, you ignorant prats.

But I guess you'll find that out soon enough, the hard way... and the way I had to learn, also.


...

[1] Warren Zevon, Mohammed's Radio

[2] Don't forget Greta Christina: Open Letter to the Fat Positive Movement.

Thinking like a drug addict

I invite you to closely examine the photos that accompany this post. They are all of the same person.*

Would you know this, if I hadn't told you?

~*~

Ironically, Mr Daisy and I had just been watching King of the Hill DVDs when we heard the news of Brittany Murphy's death. And as a King of the Hill fan, I felt that I had lost my dear friend Luanne, whom I loved like my own cartoon-land sister. And now I can't think of Luanne's sweet, scatterbrained, thoroughly clueless southern voice without tearing up. Ohhhh no, not Luanne!

Brittany Murphy was 32 years old.

With one or two exceptions (see below), there is a huge silence around her death. The implications are pretty far-reaching, so let me say it out loud: surgery is painful. Frequent surgery will make pain a frequent, even omnipresent reality.

In Hollywood, people (once it was only women, now it's everyone) have constant surgery to look good for movies and TV, and simply to stay employable. This state-of-affairs eventually evolves into endless medical tinkering and tweaking of the appearance. Surgery hurts, of course. Thus, the patients/victims are given ample painkillers, as Michael Jackson was. The result: you have a whole town full of rich, famous junkies, whom doctors will not refuse. (Out here in the heartland, you can have an exceptionally hard time getting your painkiller-Rx refilled, even when you are ready to drop dead; in Hollywood, the doctors are eager to do housecalls.) Need drugs? Have a handful!

Brittany Murphy's bedroom contained:

According to the notes, the medications included Topamax (anti-seizure meds also to prevent migraines), Methylprednisolone (anti-inflammatory), Fluoxetine (depression med), Klonopin (anxiety med), Carbamazepine (treats Diabetic symptoms and is also a bipolar med), Ativan (anxiety med), Vicoprofen (pain reliever), Propranolol (hypertension, used to prevent heart attacks), Biaxin (antibiotic), Hydrocodone (pain med) and miscellaneous vitamins.

The notes say, "No alcohol containers, paraphernalia or illegal drugs were discovered."

(Why the hell would you need illegal drugs when you can get all of that?!)

One of those phrases heard in recovery is: You are thinking like a drug addict. I found myself mulling over the death of young Brittany and by extension, the whole crew of drug-dependent Hollywood entertainers... and I wondered if they were also thinking like drug addicts.

That is to say, is the surgery first, or are the drugs first?

If you know you will get open-ended prescriptions, is that a possible enticement for more surgery? Perhaps that's one unacknowledged reason for the endless tweaking? Drugs, drugs and more drugs... but you have to plug into the system, you have to ride the gravy train. You have to get your face cut and pasted, probably some serious liposuction. It's like a baptism; a christening as a new Hollywood-being.

As a reward, perfectly legal chemicals that make you feel marvelous all the time. You can have as much as you want, but only if you continue the tweaking, the cutting, the pasting, the surgical tinkering.

And of course you will. By then, you are thinking like a drug addict.

~*~

Director Amy Heckerling has already weighed in:

Did Brittany Murphy's death have anything to do with her weight?

"Clueless" director Amy Heckerling seems to think so.

Heckerling, who worked with a much curvier Murphy during the filming of "Clueless," told Usmagazine.com that she is "angry" about the actress' death, and believes Hollywood played a large role in transforming her from a round-faced teen to a rail-thin adult.

"It just seemed like she was blowing up, being on every magazine and being treated as though she had suddenly become beautiful.," Heckerling told the mag. "And I think she was feeling very good about that. I'm just not happy with Hollywood."

Just a couple weeks before she collapsed in her shower and was pronounced dead from cardiac arrest, Murphy even admitted that she was too skinny while speaking with reporters at a store opening.

"I am a bit thinner now than what I would like to be," she told Fox News.

Murphy's official cause of death is still listed as "pending." But I see the photos, and I know that such a radical rearranging of one's appearance could not happen without considerable pain. And painkillers.

Brittany, we hardly knew ye, dear one.

Goodbye, my dearest Luanne.





*Photos above are Brittany Murphy in the films Clueless, Girl Interrupted, 8 Mile, and the not-yet-released Abandoned.

Restating the negativeness of the universe

I hereby apologize to all of my very patient email correspondents. If you are wondering about my rudeness, I have not checked email in days; ON STRIKE against the email, which is threatening to colonize my soul. It's currently taking more of my time than mere blogging or Twitter, God help me. Trying to sort it out and make lists of priorities, blah blah blah. In the meantime, bear with me, yall!

How does the internet do this to us? Does everyone else feel the constant encroachment of ONLINE into "real life"--maybe the problem is that we divide our consciousness into these categories...do the kids manage their time better than we do? I think if you grow up communicating online, you learn to make time for it in a more natural way and can do it anywhere. The rest of us have to figure out how to integrate it fully.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe the kids are as frazzled as we are?

~*~

Photo of Jessica Lange at this year's Emmy awards by Dan Steinberg, Associated Press.



Reprinting my indignant comment over at Feministe (cross-posted to Echidne of the Snakes) ...which was brought about by THIS New York Times column by Maureen Dowd, and THIS endless thread at Huffington Post. (click on the latter at your own risk!)

Suddenly inflamed by cable-TV busybodies, I wrote:

The thing people are missing is the age component. The “research” (using word advisedly) at HuffPo suggests women are unhappier AS WE AGE. Probably because they will not stop fussing at us to look young, and have upped the ante. Now we are expected to diet, use botox and collagen and look good forever. This is impossible to achieve after a certain age without considerable anxiety and anguish. Women in past generations were never expected to be “matrons” and look hot.

Still shocked that one of those nasty “fashion” TV-round-ups criticized Jessica Lange for showing her old-lady arms at the Emmys. Never mind that she won! (They didn’t even fucking MENTION that!) But they did mention her (likely) plastic surgery, while sneering that her arms still look bad. Jesus Christ, she’s 64, has two Oscars… is there NO ESCAPE for ANYONE?

No matter how well-achieved a woman is, no matter that she has had her face stretched to the limit already, dammit, just look at those ARMS!

Infuriating.

Reprinting the comment here for EMPHASIS.

Infuriating!!

~*~

Speaking of infuriating, the much-beleaguered First Lady of South Carolina, Jenny Sanford, is writing a memoir:

Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House Inc., said Tuesday it will publish Jenny Sanford's “inspirational memoir” in May 2010.

The publisher says Sanford “will grapple with the universal issue of maintaining integrity and a sense of self during life's difficult times.”

The book is currently untitled, and financial terms were not disclosed.

Mark Sanford was once a rising star in the Republican Party. He acknowledged in June that he had a yearlong affair with an Argentine woman he called his soul mate.

Jenny Sanford moved out of the governor's mansion in August, but she and her husband have said they're trying to repair their marriage.

Inspirational?

Oh, hell no.

Let's hope it isn't one of those unreadable, born-again "women's memoirs"--incessantly dotted with Bible verses. Or, worse, every emotion described is carefully catalogued with accompanying chapter and verse, so you know that even her most wayward thoughts are okay with Jesus.

Yes, I have been plied with a few of these in my time. They should NOT be confused with real memoirs.

Let's hope Jenny's account is a little better than the majority of these.

~*~

More in South Carolina fun-house news: My senator, Lindsey Graham, trashed Obama on the Sunday-morning talk shows as "being everywhere but the food channel"... which was admittedly funny. (Well, I toldya he was damned charming.) Meanwhile, he says he is ready to "compromise"--which could mean anything, coming from him.

On Saturday, downtown, I saw several Joe Wilson T-shirts and bumper stickers. Yeah, they LOOOOOVE him! CNN's Political Ticker reports that he has raised over $2 million on the strength of his ill-mannered temper tantrum.

Once more, I put out the SOS. Just in case you missed it the first time!

~*~

The title of today's post comes from the following clip... the reference to Play it Again Sam in yesterday's post, reminded me of this:



:D

Estimated Prophetess

Purple and red angelonia, and other purty plants at the South Carolina Farmer's market. (from my Flickr page)


I am one of those lifelong weirdo-hippies that enjoys talking to strangers, and so the article titled Happinomics in Adbusters totally vindicates me. I do think I am happier when I exchange pleasantries with other people, and I enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling of connection/communion that results from it...it's not (only) because I am a nosyparker! Random social exchanges are good for our well-being! And now I have this hotshot happiness-researcher to back me up in my random babbling in restrooms and checkout lines. Alright!

I have long noticed that friendly chit-chat increases the possibility of sales in a retail environment, just as familiar, fast-paced music does.

~*~

I am about to get banned, at long last, from FEMINIST CRITICS, the argumentative blog dedicated to criticizing feminism. I am already on the "watch list"--even though one guy who throws around the word "skanks" (and authoritatively announced that the Southern USA is a "shithole") is on no such watch list. I guess it depends on who you know and who you blow, as the expression goes.

In any event, the version of women's lives propagated at FC is a sharp contrast to the version offered at No Longer Quivering, a blog started by ex-Quiverfull women that I have been visiting regularly. On FEMINIST CRITICS, feminism is presented as a blight, blunting the happiness of our society, making people (read: men) totally miserable and altering the course of natural desire, blah blah blah. On NLQ, I see what our world would be WITHOUT feminism, and I feel like getting down on my knees before Almighty God and giving thanks for being born into a world that has finally been given the possibility of WOMEN'S FULL HUMANITY. Hallelujah and praise GOD for FEMINISM!

Graphic grabbed from Cyborg Mommy.



The guys at FEMINIST CRITICS (along with their trusty anti-feminist female mascot/hench(wo)man, TyphonBlue), would be totally at home in the Quiverfull movement... in fact, I don't understand why these anti-feminist malcontents aren't jumping on the bandwagon to find them a proper Quiverfull wife who will shut up and not argue.

Then, of course, it dawns on me: they'd have to support all those kids! LOL--obedience comes at a high price, dudes.

Meanwhile, TyphonBlue continues her complaint that her husband has been greatly harmed by the loss of his Bodily Integrity (FC lingo = circumcision) and resultant male sex-Godhood, or she'd be in the secular-Quiverfull movement for sure. [Caution: second link contains ableist language, the term "crippled sexuality"--which is horrendously gross, but I linked it to make a point. And TyphonBlue wonders why hubby has issues? I certainly don't.]

And you know, that's the thing...Quiverfull is a religious movement. IS there a secular equivalent? Absolutely.

The constant, worshipful fetishizing of the large family (Jon & Kate Plus 8, Nadia Suleman) is everywhere in our culture. It's been going on since the Osmonds, the Jacksons, The Brady Bunch and The King Family. And in these enlightened times (cough) you don't need religion to be radically natalist. In fact, I found the Quiverfull blog when one of their readers linked my Surfwise review to their message board, offering the wise observation that it sounded the same as the Quiverfull life, only no surfing.

The Quiverfull women are awesome in their self-analysis and truth-telling, one speaking openly about what it was like when her husband no longer desired her. (And what happens to these wives then? Are they simply supposed to ACCEPT loveless marriages? Apparently.) These women ain't a bit shy regarding the use of that much-maligned word PATRIARCHY; in fact, they are very clear about the usage. Unlike some of us, they don't throw the word around in a meaningless mish-mash of theory, they are quite specific: a patriarchal household is one in which the husband/father rules. After all, patriarchy is literally defined as "rule of the fathers"--and that is the life they have escaped from, the life they are warning us about. They know what patriarchy is.

PATRIARCHY is that which would exist, if feminism had not challenged it, if feminism did not continue to challenge it throughout the world.

PATRIARCHY is that state of affairs championed on FEMINIST CRITICS. And the Quiverfull women come forward to say, very plainly, NO. NO. NO.

I am now addicted to the blog, and the eye-opening spiritual witness of powerhouse-survivors Vyckie and Laura, also very descriptive and talented writers. God bless you strong womyn, and I love you. I am waiting for the special moment, here in Bob Jones University-land, to give your website-address to women who truly NEED it. I meet Quiverfull wives every day, I know it will happen eventually, so stay tuned. (((blows copious kisses)))

~*~

And speaking of patriarchy, dig THIS! It made me somewhat dizzy, but you know how cognitive dissonance is. Lord have mercy!

Kittywampus writes about Masters and Johnson, reviewing a review (we are somewhat derivative here in Blogdonia, you may have noticed) about the new biography of the duo, titled Masters of Sex.

Dana Goldstein's review on The American Prospect:

The truth of the Masters-Johnson partnership, however, was far more sordid. By Johnson’s own account, and that of friends and colleagues, Masters hired the divorced mother of two under the implicit understanding that she would become his sexual partner — for the purposes of research, Masters claimed. “Sex for Virginia Johnson would become part of her job,” Maier writes matter-of-factly. And indeed, Johnson told Maier herself in an interview, “No — I was not comfortable with it, particularly. I didn’t want him at all, and had no interest in him.” Johnson engaged in sex with Masters, she claimed decades later, because as a single-mother, “I had a job and I wanted it.”

She said what?!

Is this Virginia Johnson we are talking about?!

Well, damn, who knew.

Kittywampus writes:

Of course, when Masters hired Johnson in 1957, Catharine MacKinnon was still in grade school. No one had dreamed up a name for sexual harassment, though it occurred commonly, and women certainly knew it was wrong when they experienced it. And yes, sexual harassment is the right word for what Masters imposed on Johnson. She very clearly states that she had no interest in him. She was living a hardscrabble life as a single mother, and her other options appeared worse.

This is the couple whose work overturned the oppressive Freudian conceit of the vaginal orgasm as essential to mature femininity. They proved that clitoral and vaginal orgasms didn’t differ, physiologically. How ironic that this liberatory insight flowed from a partnership that began as sexual exploitation.

As I said over on her blog, all you can say is WOW.

I am really quite stunned.

~*~

At left: Close-up of red and purple angelonia. (I love them!)


I'm always glad to hear that there are more feminists in South Carolina (this rates another strong hallelujah! from me)... and Moody Springs is Rachel's relatively new blog. She writes about Ellen DeGeneres' new 'funny' commercial in which Ellen announces 'ironically' (and watch out for that free-floating irony, folks!), "Inner beauty is important, but not nearly as important as outer beauty.":

It's funny, I guess. Or...supposed to be. See, because she is a comedienne, and she makes jokes. And she uses verbal irony here...everyone knows that inner beauty actually is more important than outer beauty, but it doesn't hurt to enhance one's outer beauty. But instead of saying that, she says the opposite of what we all know to be true....

Or do we?

Actually, what she is saying is very "true." Outer beauty is more important than inner beauty. Or rather, that one must do everything she* can to hide her outer ugliness. Or in other words, her wrinkles; the fact she is old...or the fact that she didn't die young and is still alive. Oh, the situational irony is just as rich as the verbal irony...the fact that you have the vitality in you to live long, and that you have been blessed for many years with the good luck to not have been involved in some circumstance that resulted in your death, makes you ugly. So if you use this makeup, it will lie flat over those wrinkles. Hide them. Your potent life force that led you to be wrinkled will be your secret.

Rachel, may your new blog live long and prosper, girlfriend! Welcome to wacky Blogdonia.

And BTW: YES!--as several have asked, I did coin the word Blogdonia, with considerable help from Groucho Marx. Unfortuntely, the graphic in that link, featuring the mercurial Rufus T. Firefly, has now evaporated into the cyber-ether. (My advice to new bloggers regarding images is: always copy and download your own, because other people's stuff comes and goes like summer sitcoms, and frequently does not even last out the week.)

~*~

More stuff you should check out:

Politico on Obama's persistent gay problem.

Angry Black Bitch is hilarious on the subject of Senator John Ensign, violating the sanctity of man-woman opposite marriage.

The New Agenda's Urban Girls: The Have-Nots of Sports

Mr Daisy has deserted me on this sultry, sauna-like day, to go to HeroesCon in Charlotte. I assigned him Dead Air photography duties, so let's hope he returns with some proper Superhero photos to celebrate the Solstice!

And now, signing off to sizzle...

~*~

Estimated Prophet - Grateful Dead (jump to 1:31; they diddle with chords for a whole minute and a half!)



Like an angel
Standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise
I know I'm gonna shine

Dead Air Guide to yard sale and thrift store clothes shopping

At left, Miracle Hill Ministries thrift store in west Greenville, SC. On the dressing room walls, they have Bible verses from Romans, so you can be spiritually edified while you shop.

I found two lovely summer dresses here on Saturday, as well as a hand-painted candle-holder and like-new flannel Carhartt shirt. Total spent: $6.

There were several young women (from the shelter, I assume) folding clothes and cleaning glassware in the front of the store, while singing old Baptist hymns in high, soft, sweet soprano harmonies. An unexpected bonus and pleasure.



~*~



This guide focuses on clothing, since it's something everyone needs, and it's my particular area of expertise. This is a recession, and this advice might help a few folks out there who don't know where to start.

This guide was decades in the making! ;)


...

:: Flea markets

Flea markets are often an ongoing enterprise, and participants are just like store-owners: they need profits to pay for the space. For this reason, I avoid flea markets for clothes shopping, since the quality tends to be poor and the prices too high for what is offered. However, flea markets as a social event are a lot of fun, and one can always find some delightful, odd or strange thing for very cheap, that you can't find anywhere else. But if you are out for a bargain in a hurry (i.e. child needs school clothes; you just got a new job), this isn't something you can count on.

:: Thrift stores

The very best bet if you need something RIGHT NOW. The best, most high-profile, second-hand stores (Goodwill and Salvation Army) have already sorted everything for you by gender, size and type of garment (jeans, skirts, etc.) Other thrift stores do not employ any labor to do this, and you might actually get clothing by the pound or for something like a quarter-a-piece. Mission stores such as Society of St Vincent de Paul or Miracle Hill routinely offer stuff at 50 cents a pop. The problem with some of these stores is that you will have to dig, and nothing is pre-sorted. It can be very time-consuming, but if you know what you want, you can dive in and find it.

:: Church/Organizational/Fund-raising rummage sales

Church and/or other organizational yard/garage/rummage sales (i.e. Cancer Society, Humane Society, etc) are by far, some of the very BEST places to find used clothing, as well as a variety of other goods. The problem is that they are sporadic and seasonal, and you have to hunt them down anew every year. (A group may only have ONE yard sale, and then never have another one--or perhaps only every five years or something.) Local newspapers are the primary places to find these great sales, which tend to be concentrated in the spring and summer (due to the "spring cleaning" ritual). So, keep in mind that you are buying for the whole year, a situation which can bring its own set of problems (size changes, unforeseen need for certain types of clothing, lack of storage space, etc). But I heartily advise "stocking up" if at all possible.

This clothing has usually been accumulated over many years, by lots of people, and there will likely be an abundance of sizes and styles to choose from. However, if you're picky, look at the organization or church conducting the rummage sale. If you want pricey designer clothes, go to the rich Episcopalians or the annual Rolling-in-Dough Country Club rummage sale... but if you want funkier clothes, you might want to check Local College Animal Rights organization, or equivalent. The type of group it is, the neighborhood it is in, the class of people in the group, all of these factors are a way to gauge what the donated items will probably be, as well as their cost. This also involves some knowledge of where you live, and the general demographics of the area. Consider carefully your ideal taste in clothing, and who else might have it, then look for the sale that those people are having.

This stuff is usually priced to move quickly, often by volunteers who have no clue of the value of, for instance, designer labels or handmade items. (Sometimes, you can also find beautiful quilts and afghans that have been stored in attics for generations.) If clothing is cheap, get creative and branch out. It won't hurt to grab something for 50 cents. I can't tell you how many times I have purchased some strange or quirky old dress, blouse or skirt, and didn't wear it until (seriously) 10 years later, when it was suddenly funky, antique and back in fashion. If you like it and it costs virtually nothing, grab it, and screw fashion, which changes on a dime anyway.

The issue here is storage space, which for some of us is at a premium.

:: Yard sales

Community yard sales ("multi-family") are very good, and can be almost as good as churches or large organizations. But one-family yard sales are often a bust, since there will usually only be a few sizes in the family. All the men's clothes will be one or two sizes, and all the women's clothes will be one or two sizes. Ditto, the general type, colors and styles of the clothing. (Since mom tends to buy for the whole family, you will notice a profusion of mom's favorite colors in everyone's clothes. And her favorites may not be yours.) However, children's clothing may span many sizes, since children grow quickly. If there is more than one child, and/or an accumulation over many years, you could be in luck.

I once attended a yard sale put on by a children's dance studio, and struck paydirt. My kid wore that stuff for eons; I bought garbage-bags full.

:: Estate sales

These are sales conducted in homes in which someone has recently died. I love them because I am preternaturally nosy and I love snooping through an old, unoccupied house, just because.

Most of the stuff in the house will be tagged, and the prices tend to run higher-than-usual because the people managing the sale get a cut of net-profits. The clothing will likely be very old, and if you are lucky, you can score some old Doris Day coat from the 50s or 60s (I have two!) or something similar you have always wanted. Keep in mind that certain fabrics fall apart like dried newspaper after a certain period of time (depending on how they have been stored), so don't forget to check those seams! For funkiness, estate sales can be especially wonderful.

If you aren't into vintage clothing, estate sales can be a bust for the reasons stated above. The deceased individual was probably only ONE size and favored only a few general styles of clothing. If you aren't that size and don't like those styles... well, that's that. However, if they were very wealthy and/or stored a lifetime of clothing, you may find several sizes and several eras represented, and unexpected treasures await! Old bridal/evening gowns, collections of coats and jackets, bizarre and wonderful costume jewelery, and other fascinating cast-offs that are notably absent at other second-hand sales, will be at an estate sale.

Check the neighborhood, take a good look at the house before entering. If they are obviously rich, everything will either be very high-priced, or very cheap. There tends to be no in-between. Most common: the furniture and collectibles have high price tags, but the clothes will be in an untouched heap, 3-5 bucks a piece or something like that. Sometimes, they will charge you by the grocery bag, say, $3 a bag. (If so, it is worth it to have a look at the blankets, quilts, pillows and other fabric items hanging around, especially in a wealthy home.) The gowns and such will usually be set aside and tagged separately, but not always. Be sure to look at everything.

Old estate sales also specialize in novelty items like old scarves, handkerchiefs, gloves, hats, belts, and the various forgotten accessories of a lifetime. Things never worn and put aside (particularly if affluent) are everywhere, and you could unknowingly walk into a gold mine. Always be prepared!


:: General guidelines

::Know what you want and know what you need. (Two different things, as the Rolling Stones reminded us.) If you need jeans, learn to train your eye on the clothes heap and see only denim... likewise, wool sweaters, silk blouses or whatever it is. Examine the sizes of your sleeves and such, in your own closet, before you leave your house. I am able to pull out an appropriate size from a clothes heap, even with only a partial view of a sleeve, collar, or pants leg. (Yes, it's a gift!) Likewise, I can easily differentiate silk from glossy rayon impersonations. If there is something you particularly LIKE (silk, wool, floral patterns, tartan, tie-dye, frilly dresses, leather, old scarves), train your eye to pick it out of a huge pile. Make a game of it, like a treasure hunt, since that's really what it is.

::There is a good reason people do not want used underwear, bras and shoes, aside from the general "yuck" factor. They tend to be IMPRINTED with the butt, boobs or sole of the original wearer, in a way other, looser garments are not. Don't bother with any of these items, unless they are obviously new, and sometimes they are. Slips can be worn, but not usually bras. And sometimes, tight shirts or jeans will obviously have been owned by someone with a very different chest/butt size than you have, and have already been "molded" to the previous owner. Hold the garment up and look for any telltale stretching or wear-patterns.

::Sizes on used clothing tags often mean NOTHING, unfortunately, because the clothing has already been washed and possibly shrunk...maybe severely. In fact, that is one of the main reasons people get rid of stuff, so it is a given. Learn to eyeball stuff--again, start with clothes you already own. Most folks get it all wrong at first; we inevitably over/underestimate the shape and sizes of our butts, thighs, shoulders. All pride must be put on the back burner (and if you are shopping in thrift stores, you are already ahead of the game on THAT score!)... All of us can get prissy about sizes: "I won't wear a 16!" --even if it has clearly shrunk to a 9. If it looks good, the hell with the size. I once found a fantastic designer dress, which the label informed me was... MATERNITY. A MATERNITY DRESS. But it had shrunk so much, no one would ever know this. But I didn't want to be teased about it (or start pregnancy rumors!) if someone should see it, so what did I do? I cut out the label that said MATERNITY. Yes, this will work on a 16, too. Your little secret!

:: Trying on

Ideally, you should be wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt or even a tank top, so that you can slide clothing on over it and do an informal trying-on session...yes, right there in the front lawn of the yard sale if you have to. It's your money, don't be ashamed--you'd do it in a fancy store, right? Do it there, too. (Remember: They tried it on before THEY bought it.)

Some thrift stores offer fitting rooms, but of course, yard/garage/church sales never do. Be prepared for where you are going and dress accordingly.

:: Inspect

It is not uncommon to locate (at long last!) the coat or pants you always wanted, only to find: missing buttons; dilapidated zippers; torn hems; seams ready to fall apart; nasty stains. Can you repair it? WILL you repair it? Buttons are easy, but zippers are something else again. Cost/benefit analysis: is it worth taking it to someone who knows how to fix it, if you can't? If it is stained: will the stain come out? Try to figure out what the stain IS, and you might be able to salvage it. Ask yourself if it's worth it to take the chance... a $10 jacket, no. A 50 cent blouse, yes.

Also, some stains, located in certain anatomical areas, are simply unacceptable (to me, maybe not to you). Ask yourself, if the stain doesn't come out, can it be hidden? Remember, coffee, grass and blood (most common stains) often will NOT come out.

I once found the most beautiful handmade aqua sweater with a small yellow stain. I gambled that it was mustard, and then I wondered: why would someone get rid of such a lovely garment, when mustard stains can usually come out? Do not second-guess the rich in this way; they are spoiled. They regularly throw things out rather than fuss with them. (The stain came out in the first washing; it became one of my favorite things to wear for years.)

Another reason people get rid of clothes is because the tag proclaims "dry clean only"--which is usually nonsense. (However, you do take the risk that it will shrink if you defy the order!) Lots of fabric-softener before hanging it up to dry (avoid dryers) will usually do the trick... I do not believe in ironing, a time-tested method of enslaving women.

::Preparation

In the south, yard sales are usually early Saturday mornings, when volunteers and kids can help out, avoiding the heat of the day. The early bird gets the worm, and all like that; if I can get up early on a Saturday, so can you! The great stuff might be gone by the time you get there, so make it a priority to be one of the first customers. In the north and west, sales tend to start at a more decent hour, and can last all day long. But the early-bird advice still holds.

People like me are staking out the sales, and if you want to beat us to the bargains, get there first!

Go to the ATM and get cash. These operations do not usually take credit or checks. Yard sales run by churches and individuals will invariably be cash only. Get a map (or Google maps) and carefully plan your route. A good idea is to concentrate on a different neighborhood every week during spring, or just target the neighborhood you have chosen. Buy a newspaper or find the classifieds for your local newspaper online. Free weekly "thrift" newspapers will often carry a lot MORE ads, since the advertising rates are much cheaper. (Estate sales will sometimes be in a separate advertising section, so be sure to check there, too.)

Train your eye to see the signs shouting YARD SALE! GARAGE SALE! I have a radar for these signs, and I always notice them... but I have observed that some people just don't see them. It's an ingrained habit, and you need to train yourself, as you would for red and green traffic lights.


~*~

As you can probably tell by now, this is a hobby of mine. I do it for the overall fun and satisfaction of the treasure-hunt, as well as for economic reasons. I often wear things I could never afford to buy new.

And on a political level, I also believe that one of the most horrific manifestations of modern capitalism is RAMPANT WASTE, and recycling clothing is as crucial as recycling everything else.