Archive for November 19th, 2011

The Tits of the Iceberg.

Note:  The posting below is out of character for what I’d normally write but it is something that I’ve pondered over many a time.

The link in the next line has an article that touches on something that has bothered me for years.

Yoga pants.

Ladies, in case you hadn’t noticed, yoga pants allow other to see your “female parts”.  The author makes a great point…

Now, I refuse to be called a pervert for noticing [that your vagina] is separated from me by only a thin layer of spandex. I am not asking for you to show me; you are show­ing me and asking me not to look. There is a difference.  – Ben Whitmore

Not only does he make a great point, he makes an excellent point.  It happens elsewhere, too.

Women bitch about how (yoo hoo! helloooo?) their eyes are roughly 18 inches higher up (or based on my keen observations as much as 24″-36″ depending on age and physical condition).  But then women never seem to notice that they are wearing clothing that is tight, has plunging necklines, or is sheer enough to see skin through.  Or they aren’t wearing a bra.  Or not wearing one thick enough to conceal “nature’s little thermometers” (aka high beams when I was in high school).  Or they wear necklaces designed to draw the eyes to that region.  It is all a polite fiction, as must be if you’re going to walk that curvacious line between wanting to be sexually desirable and not wanting to be viewed as a piece of meat.

I try not to be obvious but even so, as Cruel Wife and I are watching TV or a movie, I feel compelled now and then when I see a blatant example to say “Gee, I wonder what they are selling there” or “Uh, isn’t she a bit top-heavy?”, or some remark in a similar vein.

If you don’t want men staring at your tits, why won’t you stop drawing attention to them?  – Dr. Lemur

It’s actually even worse than that, because men like them.  A lot.  Call them what you want – boobs, bodacious ta-tas, hooters, nodes, knockers, fun-bags, breasts, tits, milk juggs, melons… wait, I found a good listing of euphemisms (see way down below)… but my point to drive home with women is that men like them and you quite obviously like them so if you don’t want men ogling them, stop parading them about – and that goes for camel-toes, as well.

One may hear aghast and outraged complaints from women in response to my remarks:

Oh, no, we don’t want to be sexualizedYou pig.

Yet any teenage boy or man knows this to be a complete lie when they walk by the women’s clothing section of any store, or see magazine covers at the supermarket, or watch women in bars. 

Oh, but we don’t want you to view us lustfully, we want you to see us as attractive in a idealistic way.  You pig.

You don’t get it.  Or you do and you refuse to admit that any guy who doesn’t put the two together is probably gay.

We just want to feel good by looking good.  It is for ourselves that we dress the way we do.  You pig.

Uh-huh.  What makes you feel good about yourselves just happens to be the exact thing that turns guys on?  What an amazing coincidence.  And I’d love to be able to walk around with a bacon t-shirt because it smells way more awesome than I do, but it still means every dog within 2 miles is going to want to be my best friend.

I read an article in Slate, where the gist of one commentor’s observation was that [the  center of the bell curve of the varieties of] pr0n must actually be close to what a lot of men want because that is how the majority is done – there is a reason why the internet is clogged with pr0n downloads, and that is because what is there sells.  I can’t believe that 1% of the population makes up for the pristine and pure remaining 99% who have never held the desire to see it (please note the sarcasm).

Think about it – if it wasn’t a turn-on for so many the way it is in it’s present form then it would not be this way, it would be in whatever form was the biggest turn-on.  It just wouldn’t sell.  Put another way, how many men read bosom-heaver, bodice-ripper, sweaty-nipple novels?  Not  a great many because that doesn’t float the male boat as much as something really visual.  Women consume printed BHBRSN porn – excuse me, erotica and romance – in a far greater percentage because that is what they like.

It should be noted here that the statistics are pointing to a sea-change in this area, challenging the notion that men are the only ones that go for the visual stimuli.

SOYLENT GREEN has a great following for three reasons – good writing, AGW-bashing,  and T&A – it sells, and he makes no apologies for it.  Go see a NSFW example of what I’m taking about at SOYLENT GREEN.

There’s supposedly this culture (Sami people) that has thousands of words for snow.  That is because snow is very important to them.  Well, tits are called by many names for the same reason. Here’s what Shakespeare would have said had the culture of the day been less sexually repressed.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a teat
By any other name would taste just as sweet.”

As to the list of mammarilogical/teatoligical euphemisms, they missed one below that I have heard and I find it amazingly humorous:  Sweater-Puppies.

If you have others to add to the list, just shout ’em right out.

And ladies, for heaven’s sake, if you don’t want men’s eyes to track, cover your rack.   And quitcherbitchin’ about it.

I will take some heat from Cruel Wife for the BHBRSN remark.

Angel Cakes        Double-Whammies      Loaves              PT Boats
Apples             Dueling Banjos       Loblollies          Pumpkins
Balboas            Dugs                 Love Melons         Rangoons
Balloons           Dumplings            Love Muffins        Rib Balloons
Bangers            Dunes                Lulus               Rib Cushions
Bangles            Ear Muffs            Macaroons           Rivets
Bassoons           Eclairs              Mambos              Roundies
Baubles            Eggplants            Mammaries           Sandbags
Bazongas           Enchiladas           Mammies             Satellites
Bazookas           Flapjacks            Mams                Scones
Bazooms            Flappers             Mangos              Scoops
Beacons            Flesh Bulbs          Marangos            Set
Beanbags           Flesh Melons         Maraschinos         Shakers
Bebops             Floaters             Marimbas            Shebas
Betty Boops        Floats               Mau Maus            Shimmies
Big Boppers        Fog Lights           Mausers             Silos
Bikini Stuffers    Fried Eggs           Meatballs           Skin Sacks
Billibongs         Fun Bags             Meat Loaves         Skooners
Blinkers           Gagas                Melons              Smoothies
Bombers            Garbos               Milk Cans           Snuggle Pups
Bombshells         Gazingas             Milk Fountains      Spark Plugs
Bonbons            Gazongas             Milk Shakes         Specials
Bongos             Glands               Molehills           Spheres
Bonkers            Globelets            Mommas              Spongecakes
Boobers            Globes               Mondos              Spuds
Boobies            Gob Stoppers         Montezumas          Stacks
Boobs              Gongas               Moo Moos            Stuffing
Boops              Goombas              Mother Lodes        Sugarplums
Bops               Grapefruits          Mounds              Sweater Meat
Bosom              Grillwork            Mountain Peaks      Sweater Puffs
Boulders           Guavas               Muchachas           Sweet Rolls
Bouncers           Gum Drops            Muffins             Tahitis
Bra Buddies        Handsets             Mulligans           Tamales
Bra Stuffers       Hand Warmers         Mushmelons          Tartugas
Bronskis           Headers              Nancies             Tatas
Bubbas             Headlamps            Nectarines          Tattlers
Bubbies            Headlights           Niblets             Teats
Buds               Headphones           Nibs                Tetons
Bulbs              Headsets             Nippeloons          Thangs
Bulges             Hefties              Nippelos            Thingamajigs
Bullets            Heifers              Nippers             Tidbits
Bumpers            Hemispheres          Nippies             Titbits
Bumps              Hills                Nips                Tits
Bust               Hindenburgs          Nodes               Titskis
Busters            Honeydews            Nodules             Titters
Busties            Honkers              Noogies             Titties
Butterballs        Hood Ornaments       Nose Cones          Tomatoes
Buttons            Hoohas               Oompas              Tooters
Caboodles          Hooters              Orbs                Torpedoes
Cannon Balls       Hot Cakes            Ottomans            Tortillas
Cantaloups         Hottentots           Padding             Totos
Carumbas           Howitzers            Pagodas             Twangers
Casabas            Hubcaps              Pair                Tweakers
Cha-Chas           Huffies              Palookas            Tweeters
Charlies           Humdingers           Papayas             Twin Peaks
Chihuahuas         Hush Puppies         Parabolas           Twofers
Chimichongas       ICBM's               Pastries            Tympanies
Chiquitas          Jawbreakers          Paw Patties         U-Boats
Coconuts           Jemimas              Peaches             Umlauts
Congas             Jibs                 Peakers             Wahwahs
Corkers            Jobbers              Peaks               Waldos
Creamers           Jugs                 Pears               Warheads
Cream Pies         Jukes                Pects               Water-Melons
Cuhuangas          Jumbos               Peepers             Whoppers
Cupcakes           Kabukis              Pillows             Wind-Jammers
Curves             Kalamazoos           Pips                Wobblers
Dingers            Kazongas             Plums               WOngas
Dinghies           Kazoos               Pointer-Sisters     Woofers
Dingos             Knobbers             Points              Yabbos
Dirigibles         Knockers             Pokers              Yams
Domes              Kongas               Polygons            Yayas
Doodads            Kumquats             Pompons             Zeppelins
Doozers            Lactoids             Pontoons            Zingers
Doozies            Lip Fodder           Potatoes

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I think one thing that we’ve been talking about a lot in Boston is the fact this is not necessarily anti-capitalism, and that this isn’t anti-wealth. And so, you know, we’ve found that some people who are just wealthy might be a little alienated by our movement.   And so we’ve been sort of actively trying to reach out to them and say that, you know, it’s not that we have anything against wealth, and it’s not that we have anything against capitalism. We just want to make sure that our democracy is functioning the way that it’s supposed to function.Jason Potteiger, brainwashed and unemployed recent graduate

And how is shutting down businesses, destroying property, and truly being a public danger and nuisance in any way a functioning democracy?

We’re not a democracy, we’re a representative republic, but if we concede the point for the sake of argument, the functioning “democracy” functions when everybody votes.  Then you keep abreast of the issues and write to your congress-critters.  That’s how it works.

Or, you can make a public spectacle and waste taxpayer dollars as an attention-whore and say stupid things like this:

“Inherently, in asking for demands, you are accepting that there is a power greater than yourself, which is something that this movement is categorically against,” Patrick Bruner, a 23-year-old protester, told the group. “This movement is founded on autonomous action and collective wisdom.”

There’s earned arrogance…

Arrogance has to be earned.  Tell me what you did to earn yours.  – House

And there is Patrick Bruner’s arrogance, which really doesn’t have a lot of life experience to justify it yet.  Of course there are powers greater than ones’ self – it is a fact of life and you can’t change it even if you close your eyes really hard and wish for it to be different.

Sam Abrahamson… back in the NPR interview:

You know, I came out here, essentially, because I’m sick of the apathy that seems to be pervading through my generation. Just like Jason, I’m worried about paying off all this debt that I’m racking up from college. So one of the things that I’m hoping to accomplish from these protests is to get some financial reforms, that we can have support for people like myself who are in the middle class, who are not going to have the ability to pay these loans off by themselves.

Grammar is not a strong point of college graduates, obviously.

How is Occupy Wall Street supposed to pay off all the debt one racks up from college?  The guy went to college in “pre-reforms” times, and surely must have known that he would be responsible for paying for the services rendered (obtaining an education).  If you know you are not going to have the ability to pay off the loans by yourself, perhaps you ought to save up some money and then go to school.

What Abrahamson is trying to do is get the education and then not have to pay for it.  Free lunch.  As a graduate who paid off all of his loans the less-polite part of me very much wants to say to Abrahamson:

Stuff it, you snot-nosed litte dirtbag.  Suck it up and be a man.  The real apathy here is rooted in your inability to face that you have to work for things in life and the rest of the world owes you no favors.  Stop being a child.

Idiots succeed in making statements like the ones above because no one calls them on it.  The Democratic Party gets away with calling itself the party that includes blacks and minorities because they are allowed to.  Media is allowed to slash the Tea Party as people clinging to guns and religion because they are allowed to (yes, I know Obama said that one).

And Occupy Wall Street is allowed the fiction of claiming that their 0.001% represents the rest of us in the 99% even though it is utterly untrue.  They don’t speak for me even one tiny bit.  They can’t even coherently speak for themselves since the liberal portion of this country is really composed of a bunch of special interests that band together as long as purposes suit rather than be held together by a common cause which is indeed bigger than themselves.  Autonomous action and collective wisdom is synonymous with anarchy and chaos.

The politest fiction is that demonstrative liberalism isn’t rooted in hubris.

More later – I need a nap.

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