Garbage television addiction update

Although I proudly bragged in Monday's post about being a bad bitch, goodness mercy, folks... ain't no way I could measure up to the current crop of REAL HOUSEWIVES on the Bravo network. I'm currently watching both the New York and Orange County editions, she admitted, embarrassed. These shows put one in mind of slo-mo trainwrecks; gaudy, narcissistic, hedonistic, expensive, collagen-injected, botoxed, designer-clad, exquisitely-decorated, very thin trainwrecks. On another level, they are one long commercial for capitalism as The Entire Lifestyle, the Alpha and the Omega. (The human flaws, then, are also a manifestation of the lifestyle.)

Unfortunately, this season's bitchitude doesn't reach the mythic levels of RHO-New Jersey. RHONJ was totally in a class by itself, featuring such Golden Moments of Reality TV as Teresa's now-legendary table-flipping routine (even satired on SOUTH PARK), hair-pulling at chi-chi country clubs, psychic-healing by telephone and lots of other suburban fun. The New York/California crowd simply can't measure up to the cheesiness of our beloved Jersey Girls. You could wait all season and NOBODY will pull anyone else's hair, or their weave either. (sigh) Now, the Atlanta gals, especially NeNe, have engaged in some hair-pulling, and that show understands WHY WE WATCH. Don't be tardy for the party!

The one consistent sign of intelligence in these shows, Bethenny Frankel, got her own (well-deserved) spin-off TV show on Bravo. I enjoy watching her wittily fuss about her new baby, hubby, business, in-laws, etc, but it certainly isn't as much fun as listening to her dish about the other New York Housewives in her very honest, snarky, funny, acerbic, barbed fashion. And the fights! The Bethenny vs Kelly bouts were almost as good as Teresa turning over tables in posh restaurants. Any chance of a rematch between you girls? Your fans demand it!

Will Kelly guest star on Bethenny's show, maybe do a bunny-boiler routine? Not a stretch at all, and it's certainly better than Kelly pretending to be a reporter; Brenda Starr on crack. (And we can all do without more of THAT, please.) Yall need to jazz this stuff up, or I'ma quit watching.

Teresa raised the bar and now we want housewives attacking each other. And what's next? "Housewife snuff"?*

The ratings would go through the roof.



*I am suddenly reminded of the amusing short story "The National Pastime" by Norman Spinrad. Can't find a link.

Odds and Sods: End of 2010 Edition

Hey you crazy kidz, hope you all have a great New Years celebration planned. And resolutions, lots and lots of good-hearted resolutions, that make us feel all warm and fuzzy (at least until we break them).

This year has seen DEAD AIR's lowest number of blog posts ever, and one of my resolutions is to post more, even if the posts are short. I don't have to turn everything into a damn epistle! But alas, old habits die hard.

The important thing is the HABIT, I have discovered. If you let a few days go by without writing, well... it's easier to let a few MORE days go by... and finally, you aren't writing at all. That's how it initially happened to me some years ago, when I went long periods (like, years) without writing. I missed chronicling some very important, earth-shattering events, and I now greatly mourn the loss. (We can't remember everything we were thinking/doing ten years ago, even if we believe we do; I re-read parts of this blog from only three years ago and I am astounded at the details I have forgotten already.) I decided I wouldn't let that happen again, but this year, I nearly did.

As many of you know, my spiritual center (so to speak) was re-centered (so to speak), and I found it hard to adequately convey my thoughts and feelings around the shift in sensibility. I still find it very difficult, and I am largely unable to write sensibly about leaving the Church. It remains a jumble of emotions and I need to let it all settle, before I attempt to go there. I have about a half-dozen unfinished posts regarding sudden realizations I have had, re: Christianity and identifying as Christian. For one thing, a loss of respectability, that 1) I didn't know I had and 2) didn't know I valued. Some of this respectability is social, some political, and some is self-respect, and that last one is the one that caught me off guard.

I still identify as a Catholic in a social/ethnic way, and that is also very hard to quantify. I am not sure I even understand what it means, but it is simply true.

And so, forward into another year...

~*~

Two of Cravin Melon, but not sure which two! (They introduced themselves as "2/5 of Cravin Melon" at the Earth Fare benefit for Harvest Hope Food Bank, Thanksgiving Eve.)

~*~

DEAD AIR almost got through a whole year without a troll invasion, but last night, there they were, scurrying out from under all kinds of rocks. (((screams)))

I am currently waiting for the cops to arrive to arrest me for not deleting the troll's angry posts (!), as I have been assured they are on the way.

Today, I drove home at breakneck pace and the only thing I found was two florescent light bulbs outside my door, to install in the kitchen. *sigh* No cops. No subpoena. No indictment. Galdurnit! (as my late uncle liked to say) It appears I got all my hopes up for nothing.

I was planning a really JAZZY end-of-year post about Freedom of Speech and blogging, complete with trolls sending me to jail after posting their addresses on my blog (seriously, read the link)... but nah. I was also hopeful that this would be a big First Amendment case, endearing me to all of Blogdonia (and bringing me thousands of hits, of course), but it all turned out to be just another annoying pain in the ass.

~*~

Tyler Ramsey at the Bohemian Cafe in Greenville, December 4th. His musical compatriots, BAND OF HORSES, have just been nominated for a Grammy award, which he called "Some crazy news!" It certainly is!

Congrats on the nomination, Tyler, and good luck. (Apologies for the blurry photo, but it was kinda dark in there.)

~*~

I did want to link a few people who posted especially interesting, fun and/or very readable stuff that I didn't get to highlight previously:

:: How do I feel about the recent lift of the ban on openly gay soldiers (i.e. Don't ask, don't tell)? Truthfully? I hate when still another group gets turned into cannon fodder. Suzan sums up my feelings perfectly in the title of her piece: To the Gay Community: Now That You Can Join the Military, Please Don’t!

:: Renegade Evolution meets the Furries... great stuff: You’re going to Baltimore? You might need…

:: Jon shared this one with me: The Professional Left Versus The Left of Us. Money quote:

But to some the fascism warned of in all those faint allusions to totalitarian horrors already exists and the death camp trains have been running for decades with barely a peep from the professional liberals. Should we care about Obama’s failure to close Guantanamo when he never felt pressure enough to even lie about wanting to shut down the Corrections Corporation of America? Prisons and the racist legislation, hyper-policing, brutality and fraudulent judicial system that keep them filled are among the nation’s biggest businesses. Joblessness and poverty continue to worsen and even the tens of thousands dying from war abroad are more than matched by the deaths in this country resulting from public policies which deny adequate housing, food and health care to millions.

Preach it, preach it!

:: Skepchick: Eating Disorders, the Media, and Skepticism.

:: AMERICA: Y UR PEEPS B SO DUM? Ignorance and courage in the age of Lady Gaga by Joe Bageant. Required reading for every culture warrior!

Yellowdog Granny's recent funnies! It's where I found the comic on the left.



Speaking of which, I've been a loyal REAL HOUSEWIVES fan since day one, but this year, I was pretty disappointed in the newest incarnation: The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Boring, predictable, with no authentic or amusingly-outrageous neurosis at all, just garden-variety, high-tax-bracket narcissism. Narcissism without neurosis is just... narcissism. Neurosis, however, is what makes the world go round! (We crave copious tearful, self-centered confessions about how no one understands what they go through!!!!) The Bev Hills gang doesn't have enough self-pity to suit me... or it could be that they've had SO MUCH BOTOX they are totally unable to move their faces (the husbands too!) and as a result, cry with their eyes wide open. And that just doesn't pull at my heartstrings in the same way.

If you can't even scrunch up your face and cry like the rest of us, fuck you.

:: Media Matters: 15 Whoppers [Glenn] Beck did not get fired for in 2010. (My first thought: What?! ONLY 15?)

:: Sheila instructs us in Relearning how to breathe. As a customer service rep, I would often notice that my breathing would get all raggedy and strange, after an hour or so of getting my ass chewed out non-stop. I would take a few seconds and concentrate on breathing in and out, and I was amazed at the difference in my state of mind, my countenance, my inner calm.

:: Mia Mingus shares her feelings about November 6, the anniversary of her adoption. This is her recorded birthday, but of course, not really her birthday. I had never really stopped to consider the fact that most adoptees do not know their actual birthdays:

I hate the confusion that surrounds my birthday now. People constantly getting confused, “so which birthday do you celebrate?” “When is your real birthday?” Since finding out the truth, I would rather deny my birthday all together, no celebrations, no worries about what or how birthdays are supposed to feel to someone who does not even know how to think of her own birth. It only marks another year that I have spent separated from pieces of myself that may or may not even exist; pieces of my self that made me, created me, but don’t know me now. It only marks a deep sadness at having celebrated something that was so wrong for so long, something that wasn’t real, the way sometimes entire decades of my life have felt.

Beautiful, expressive writing.

:: My always-embarrassing senator, Tea Party busybody Jim DeMint, has just revealed himself to be a starstruck fanboy, gushing to Politico that Sarah Palin has "done more for the Republican Party than anyone since Ronald Reagan," -- apparently with a straight face, too.

As they say, those two need to get a room.

~*~

And now (((drum roll))) DEAD AIR VIDEO OF THE YEAR... as always, my criteria is the same: Which one did I listen to the most after I initially posted it?

Ohhh, that's an easy call. I must have listened to this five thousand times by now. (As I said back in April, all due to the wonders of modern technology!)

Cleo's Mood - Junior Walker and the All Stars



HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Have a fabulous 2011!

*Photos from my FLICKR page*

Odds and Sods: They don't call it lunacy for nothing!

Due to the strangeness surrounding me, I knew it was a full moon, way before I saw it. Sometimes, you just know.


~*~


And the USA careens onward, listing evermore to the right, approaching the fever pitch of November elections. If Obama is re-elected, I expect a partial suspension of government by newly-elected Tea Partiers. Newt Gingrich successfully pulled this nasty stunt in 1995 and you can expect a reprise.

What?--you say, alarmed, they can't do that! Daisy laughs ruefully. THEY can do any damn thing they want to. And the way things are presently going, I am girding my loins and preparing for the worst. (I just hope my generally-congenial personality means *I* am not locked up.)

Yesterday, once again, nearly rear-ended due to the bumper stickers. The guy who did it had an MIA bumper sticker... yes, it's a veritable WAR OF THE BUMPER STICKERS. But that's why I tend to worry about the arrival of fascism... sure looks that way to me.

Several of the guys I work with counseled me to buy a gun. Uh-huh, and I'm sure the MIA guy would also have one, and that is a good way for both of us to end up dead. (Then again, I might end up dead when one of them pushes my little car into oncoming traffic.)

Despite my resolve, I might have to scrub off the bumper stickers. Doncha love how these patriots only want constitutional rights (such as FREE SPEECH) for THEMSELVES and not for the rest of us?

Trying hard not to hate. Damn, that sounds so 70s, but I am really trying not to, and fiercely meditating on impermanence.

~*~

Although African-American women get more abortions than white women, abortion is still regarded as a "white women's issue"--why?

This salient question is what started Faith Pennick on the road to making her documentary SILENT CHOICES, about the silence of black women on the subject of abortion, even (especially?) their own... and the many reasons for this:

According to a 2009 report by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, nearly eight in 10 African Americans claim that religion is very important in their lives, compared with just over half of all U.S. adults. And while black churches have historically served as beacons of political activism in this country, most of them have remained mute on the issue of abortion. “Black churches are very left as far as their political views on certain issues,” Pennick notes, “but when it comes to something like abortion, there’s this weird sort of break, like a split personality.”

One of the most pervasive stereotypes attached to this issue, Pennick says, is the image of the black woman as sexually promiscuous. “If we talk about abortion,” says Pennick, “it might make people think we’re freaks who just love sex. Not that there’s anything wrong with loving sex, but we’re giving the racists ammunition to say, ‘See, look at those sluts.’ “

To illustrate how this stereotype continues to thrive in contemporary society, Pennick points to the discovery in 2008 that Bristol Palin—the 17-year-old, unwed daughter of the GOP’s vice-presidential candidate—was pregnant. “Somehow, for conservative whites, it reinforced their traditional family values because she kept the baby and got engaged,” Pennick says. “But if that had been Sasha or Malia Obama, if they had been 16 or 17 and had gotten pregnant, oh my, every conservative in this country would have been saying, ‘[The Obamas] have no family values, they’re horrible parents.’“

Yup.

Excerpt from SILENT CHOICES. (caution, may trigger, etc)

Interesting that my mother's (illegal) abortion was also "a shot"--but she wasn't hit in the stomach. As a result of the shot, my mother slept for three days during which she bled so profusely, my grandmother thought she was dying.

After that, the pregnancy was gone, but I am convinced the hormonal-overdose might have been a precursor to the breast cancer she developed later.

It was her family doctor; he told her he did it all the time, but you had to "catch it early"...

~*~

RADISHES AND RICOTTA (unabashedly stolen from REAL SIMPLE):

1 cup fresh ricotta in small bowl
Drizzle with 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
Sprinkle w/1/8 to 1/4 tsp each, kosher salt and plain black pepper
Serve with two bunches of trimmed radishes.

Excellent source of magnesium, potassium, Vitamin B6, and alla that good stuff! YUM!

~*~

Botox is bad, which of course, you already know. But not only because you are injecting botulism toxin into your body (((screams for emphasis))) but because of the results. Facial expressions are not simply facial expressions.

The University of Wisconsin is on the case:

[Researcher David] Havas was studying people after a pinpoint treatment to paralyze a single pair of "corrugator" muscles, which cause brow-wrinkling frowns.

To test how blocking a frown might affect comprehension of language related to emotions, Havas asked the patients to read written statements, before and then two weeks after the Botox treatment. The statements were angry ("The pushy telemarketer won't let you return to your dinner"), sad ("You open your e-mail in-box on your birthday to find no new e-mails") or happy ("The water park is refreshing on the hot summer day.").

Havas gauged the ability to understand these sentences according to how quickly the subject pressed a button to indicate they had finished reading it. "We periodically checked that the readers were understanding the sentences, not just pressing the button," says Havas.

The results showed no change in the time needed to understand the happy sentences. But after Botox treatment, the subjects took more time to read the angry and sad sentences. Although the time difference was small, it was significant, he adds. Moreover, the changes in reading time couldn't be attributed to changes in participants' mood.

In sales work, I often gauge customer satisfaction by facial expression, and have long noticed that the Botoxed crowd is unable to let you know whether they like something or not. They may even WANT to let you know, but have rendered themselves incapable of doing so. I find it disorienting, and I tend to go emotionless in response. (Thus, I foresee a future in which all interactions between older women will be reduced to Stepford Wife/android-conversations.)

Uppity women are now controlled with pharmaceutical drugs and with the law; through advertising and through our reproductive capacities, and now, they can control our emotions, as I wrote three years ago. Women appearing unhappy or pissed off will probably be outlawed when the Tea Party takeover is complete, and the Botox injections will be mandatory.

Michele Bachmann's doctor will be rich, rich, rich! (Okay, I know, that was nasty.)

~*~

I used to read Adrienne von Speyr, when I was in my hard-core, pseudo-Opus Dei period. And I admit, I still like her! If anyone needs some female-authored (and surprisingly woman-centered) Catholic mysticism, check her out.

She once wrote: Anyone who knows the fullness of the light should not live in the twilight for the sake of thrift.

And I've always tried to live by that.

~*~

Closing with some random tunes I posted on Facebook, and some I've just been listening to in my car... starting with my favorite local band! :)

I'm a Country Man - Mac Arnold and Plate Full O Blues



~*~

All I've got to do - The Beatles



~*~

Easy To Be Hard - Three Dog Night



~*~

This is special for Mr Daisy! (kisses)

Peggy-O - New Riders of the Purple Sage



~*~

Big finish! Whenever I hear this song, I always wonder where all the Quaaludes went, LOL. In Ohio, we called em Sopors, while in the UK (and sometimes on the East Coast), the term was Mandrax. This meant: If you hitchhiked or otherwise traveled a lot, you might not know what you were being offered as you left one region for another, so it was important to be informed!

Ah, pharmaceutical nostalgia for all the former lude-heads in my readership! (goes with the whole FULL MOON motif)

Cities on Flame with Rock and Roll - Blue Oyster Cult

Where are the old women bloggers?

We know everything that has ever happened, and there is no end to derision.--Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra

~*~

After turning 50 in September, I became somewhat obsessed with the age of bloggers. I discovered I could find a lot of male bloggers in the 50-and-older category. But where are the women?

I know, there are a few. And I am not talking about Arianna Huffington, who is 57 and a billionaire (and therefore looks 25), but about us ordinary bloggers, such as Raven, Jackie, Risa, JJ, Marion, Maitri and Shadocat. I try to find them and link them on my blog... they are like precious jewels.

I have wondered if the hyperventilating over WOMEN'S AGE might be the cause of this phenomenon; we might call it The Botox Effect. We cover up the "lines" in our writing, as we try to cover the lines in our face. We minimize that which makes us seem old. If there is something new we don't understand, such as contemporary slang, we don't dare ask for clarification and thereby give ourselves away. Perhaps, then, there are more of us than I realize? Many women pointedly do not provide their ages on their blogs, while men usually do; a silly, sexist and archaic cultural habit.

At times when I write about nostalgia, as I enjoy doing, I get replies from isolated people (who will not comment publicly, it is worth noting) thanking me for publicly remembering something that they agree needs recounting. But they say it in hushed, secretive emails, as if I have said something dirty out loud. THE PAST IS OLD, and therefore, not a good thing. NEW is good, new is revolutionary, new is a product that has been improved, reformulated, with all kinds of good shit added to it to make it a rockem-sockem, highly-evolved and BETTER thing... better car, better house, better suburb, better dishwashing liquid.

Various cultures throughout the world once prized the old, as those who had knowledge and wisdom. As American imperialism runs roughshod all over the world and into every nook and cranny of the globe, we see all that is old is shunned and shunted aside. Hatred of what is old is now invading hearts and minds and cultures everywhere. Universally, the belief that old age equals wisdom is fast disintegrating. NEW NEW NEW shall reign. The old is hidden or eliminated, and that includes old people.

On certain progressive blogs, when I try to comment about what we expected or thought in the past, it's a sure way to get beat up and left for dead. Yes, I am told, that just proves how fucked up everything was back then. Nietzsche's Last Man of History knows everything that has ever happened, and there is no end to derision.

The very idea that we may know something is laughed at. And yet writing "teh" is not considered laughable, for some reason. I guess because it's a "young" thing to do.

~*~

Left: A photograph of the back of my head, taken at a political rally 30 years ago. I was lying down with my head propped on my elbows--that's my blond hair, which looks virtually the same now as it did then. (Hey, it could be worse, I could look like the girl with the Farrah Fawcett hair!) Kent State, 1977.

When you get old enough, you find photos of yourself (and your head, and your feet, and your husbands, and your kids) all over the net, which is a scary thing.

~*~

When old women aren't laughed at, we are completely ignored.

I have tried very hard not to be petty about this. I have concentrated HARD on my new tattoo, and asked my various saints whether I am being self-centered or petty when I am ignored and patronized. I look around, though, and I see a DEARTH of women bloggers my age. Of course we are ignored, we do not even exist. We are not a DEMOGRAPHIC BLOCK and they don't have to deal with us as a GROUP, or maybe they would notice how shitty they talk (or don't talk) to us.

I am pretty tired of this, and I have nearly given up blogging twice over it. Being ignored or talked down to, hurts. How much of this is also sexism and elitism/classism is hard to say... perhaps taken altogether: an older, working-class woman in South Carolina is simply unimportant. Possibly, if I were from New York, London or someplace cool, that would be sufficient to allow me to be taken seriously. But I keep coming back to age: Menopausal gals ain't hawt, and subsequently, we don't say very hawt things. And on the internets, hawtness is a crucial selling point.

My rant was brought on by a particular blogger, who of course is oblivious to my existence. Thus, it makes no sense to link him here, it won't matter to him one way or the other. He may find it peripherally amusing. But I am curious as to how many people might read this, and wonder if I am talking about them?

~*~

I think about right-wing conservatives, and their continuous political appeals to old people. I wonder if much of their success is their promise not to forget about us, to honor our lives and experience? By contrast, the left (where I have spent my life), sends us off to the glue factory.

One last thing: Unless you die, you will all age. If you'd like that to be a pleasant experience, rather than an unpleasant one, it may behoove you to change the culture NOW. Otherwise, I daresay, you'll someday understand exactly what I mean by this post.

Yall come back now, ya hear?

----------------
Listening to: Etta James - Don't Lose Your Good Thing
via FoxyTunes

The Botoxing of America's Older Women

Watching Laura Linney in BREACH the other night, I wondered how someone could become so suspicious and agitated, while never actually frowning or even appearing particularly pensive. Then it occurred to me: this is yet another example of the rampant mass-botoxing of America's older women. The utter lack of facial expression due to botox injections. This is not the freaked-out Laura Linney of MOTHMAN PROPHECIES or the angry-lawyer Laura Linney of PRIMAL FEAR. This is neutralized Laura Linney, middle-aged botox recipient.

Another middle-aged woman, rendered placid and blank. She can join the army of older women lawyer-commentators on COURT TV, as well as Holly Hunter, looking all wide-eyed and unemotional in the advertisements for her new TV show.

This chemically-induced placid expression on the faces of middle-aged women is now all over TV and movies. Older women can no longer frown in skepticism, suspicion, disapproval, or even in deep thought. And it is at precisely this stage of our lives that we are finally unafraid of registering these emotions, and feel we have earned the right to analyze and to draw our own conclusions. But those wrinkles, those frown lines, those lines that signal THINKING, are being paralyzed with botulism toxin, an actual poison.

Women's intellectual process and deep thinking, as well as any contrary emotions are simply unacceptable, particularly from older women who have been around long enough to know the score. Any sign of this must be exterminated, at least in our common culture.

At present, I am watching the Phil Spector murder trial on COURT TV, as Linda Kenney Baden, botoxed Hollywood defense lawyer, cross-examines middle-aged, un-botoxed civil servant Dr. Lynne Herold, criminalist. Baden looks unruffled and cool, her unlined and blank face like a department-store mannequin's, while Herold unavoidably looks aggravated (in comparison), as she furrows her menopausal brow, trying to think, remember and correctly answer a barrage of scientific questions. Will the jury think the prettier person with the unlined and unemotional face is the one to trust? Obviously, this is the intention of the Spector-defense team.

Middle-aged women who show emotion are being systematically censored from our public media-consciousness, just as we reach that age in which we are finally able to show our emotions without fear of censure.