Rambling Rhodes

Penis Power

So, the ACLU is willing to step in to defend high school students' right to wear "I (heart) my vagina" buttons.

Just curious here, but if a bunch of male students start marching around that same school with "I (heart) my penis" buttons, what do you think the overall reaction would be?

Yeah, I thought so.

I'm not saying the ACLU wouldn't come to their defense (David). My suspicion is, however, that the public reaction to boys wearing penis pins would be substantially less supportive. Again, that's just a hunch.

Here these girls are wearing the pins "to spark discussion about violence against women, about women's rights," which seems to me to be a nice way of saying "Hey, men beat women and keep us down." Now, if boys were to wear penis pins "to spark discussion about how most (American) men don't beat women, and how men are more and more often being portrayed as blundering dorks," I don't think they'd be taken very seriously and, in fact, would probably be reprimanded by school administrators.

UPDATE: As a cool aside, I used to compete in wrestling tournaments at that school. I didn't wrestle very well, mind you, but I did compete.

I also graduated from Winona State University, or something.

Contrarian

My father is a bit of a nay-sayer. When it comes to saying nay, he's amongst the world's best. What I mean is, he enjoys disagreeing with people just for the sake of disagreeing. You could tell him "Air is necessary for breathing," and he'd take an opposing viewpoint.

Growing up, I got seriously annoyed at times, because my dad could maintain a debate until I wanted to mash my own face with a cupboard door. It damn near drove me out of my mind, and he still does it, from time to time, either out of amusement, or just to get a rise out of me.

And, true to form, I've turned out exactly like him. Except I'm even worse, because I just do it practically by reflex, whereas dad at least can control when he does it. I'll find myself within a group of friends, and suddenly I realize that I'm arguing with them just for the sake of argument. And the worst part is, sometimes I'll find that I don't even agree with my own position; I'll play the Devil's Advocate for no good damned reason.

It's just now becoming clear to me how much this behavior permeates my Internet debating. I was looking through some of my blog archives last night thinking "Dude, I don't even believe that, but I was making a convincing case FOR it."

The point, as far as there is one, is that I have to be more careful with this behavioral affliction, or I'll wake up one day and realize I don't even know what I believe any more, beyond disagreeing with everything everyone else says. I'll be an unbearable old person if this trend continues unabated.

Here's a list of famous women I'm posting to boost Web traffic: Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Tina Fey.. Carrie Ann Moss. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Jenny Garth. Jenny Garth. Alyssa Milano. Alyssa Milano. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch.

DeLay Tactic

I can't say I know much about Tom Delay's alleged transgressions.

However, when your own party starts to distance itself from you, chances are good you have one foot in the political grave.

Can't Somebody Else Do It?

I've been feeling remiss about not fisking a Nick Coleman column for some time. But then I sometimes forget that Coleman is bashed elsewhere as well.

Sour Grapes

Back when I was in about fourth grade, my class was assigned a somewhat unique project. We were divided into groups, ranging from two to four students, and we were given one of Aesop's Fables to memorize and act out.

For those unfamiliar with Aesop's Fables, they're a collection of little moral stories, supposedly gathered by an individual with the unfortunate name "Aesop," that usually consist of anthropomorphic characters. For example, there are such fables as "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Ant and the Grasshopper," and the eyebrow-raising title "The Man, the Boy, and the Donkey."

My group consisted of myself and one other classmate, Chris. We were assigned the fable "The Fox and the Grapes," which consists of a fox jumping repeatedly for grapes that are just out of its reach, before finally giving up and declaring that the grapes are probably sour anyways. The moral of the fable? "It is easy to despise what you cannot get." Which is only partially true, because I know that I'll probably never "get" Salma Hayek, but I certainly don't despise her. Not by a long shot.

As you may have guessed, I was the fox in the "Fox and the Grapes," so it was my responsibility to repeatedly leap into the air, grasping for grapes just out of my reach, and then fall clumsily on the ground.

It's at this point that things started to get interesting. After our groups had memorized and could adequately enact our assigned fable, we were told that we were going to perform our little skits for other elementary classes. Those classes would then vote on their favorite Aesop Fable skit. The top two groups would then perform their skits in front of the entire school assembly in the elementary gymnasium. Lo and behold, Chris and I came in second.

Now, an important side-story to this tale was unfolding during that same week. My mother had recently purchased a new batch of underwear for me, which is always a good thing. Unfortunately, the underwear my mother purchased featured little fire trucks and dalmations and all sorts of other little decorations no young elementary boy would be caught dead sporting on his underwear.

One of the activities the boys in my class engaged in was a competition to see how far away we could stand from a urinal while still successfully urinating in said urinal. Some of the boys in my class were god-like when it came to this pastime. They could stand six feet away and still maintain a perfect stream to the urinal. I wasn't that powerful, but I enjoyed the competition.

Well, knowing that we'd probably be doing urinal competitions later in the day, and because I didn't want to endure any ridicule for my fire truck emblazoned underwear, I ducked out of class early in the morning, went to the bathroom, and divested myself of my underwear. Better to go commando, I thought, than be caught wearing "panties."

Unfortunately, Chris and I came in second place that same day with our "Fox and the Grapes," skit, so please see if you can guess where all of this is going. There we were, Chris and I, standing in front of the entire school assembly, performing our runner-up, Academy Award-winning Aesop Fable. I was determined to be the best darned fox leaping for grapes that I possibly could be.

I leapt for the grapes, and came crashing dramatically to the ground.

Again I leapt. Again, I crashed to the ground.

Yet another powerful leap for those tantalizing grapes. Another miss. Another sorry squat as I fell to the floor. . .

And you could have heard the seat of my pants split if you were living in Oregon.

I sat there on the floor, as the sound of my pants splitting echoed through the gymnasium one last time, feeling the cold gym floor tile pressed against my exposed right butt cheek, and I pondered my situation.

I had split my pants before. I was a growing boy, after all. These things happen. But during those other pant splitting episodes, I had at least been wearing underwear. Heck, if you're wearing underwear, splitting your pants could actually be kind of funny. But, this wasn't funny. Not funny at all.

First and foremost, I had a skit to finish, darn it. Pulling myself up from the floor, I made a valiant effort to keep my rear aimed away from the school assembly. And, although I had two more leaps for those grapes scheduled, I decided to alter our runner-up script just a tad and not do any more jumping. There were a few snickers and giggles coming from students who apparently recognized the sound of pants splitting, but mostly the assembly seemed unaware of my plight.

Chris and I completed our skit, and I exited the gymnasium, sprinted to my locker and grabbed my jacket, which I quickly tied around my waist, thus concealing my exposed behind. All the while, I could hear the assembled students still applauding Chris's and my Aesop Fable re-enactment.

I returned to the gymnasium to take a bow, and no one even questioned why a jacket was now tied around my waist.

We actors are eccentric like that.

Especially when confronted by any one of the following hot ladies: Namrata Singh Gujral. Cerina Vincent. Lauren Lee Smith. Tawny Cypress. Jayma Mays. Rose Byrne. Natalia Tena. Carice van Houten. Sonya Walger. Michelle Ryan. Alice Braga. Kristen Stewart. Katie Leung. Vera Jordanova. Mia Maestro. Ninel Conde. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya Rai.

Oh, brother

This has GOT to piss somebody off:

Then again. . .

Be Careful What You Blog. . . Or Don't

Read the comment on this old post of mine.

Honestly, it's starting to get to the point where so many people are finding my blog and taking issue with my ruminations, I wonder sometimes whether it's worth continuing.

I guess I won't be going to a certain dentist any time soon. Unless there's a nude Wanda Nara working there.