Listen up authors: the next time you want to dress an action character in “skintight leather,” remember this scene from Friends.

(Apparently, none of the youtube clips of this episode are embeddable. Watch the clip here.)

Rachel Marsden on Margaret Thatcher vs. fake female empowerment: “Here’s the harsh reality about exceptionally accomplished women: It’s a quiet, lonely, very private and incredibly long struggle. It’s a lifelong commitment. There is no feel-good, publicly extolled “progress” for the individual woman who seeks a life of meaning and contribution outside society’s accepted and tread-worn norms. It’s an endless, highly discreet struggle…”

Will Wilkinson explains why he’s not a Libertarian.

A tribute to Cordelia Chase.

Furthermore, this whole butterflies-constantly-in-Bella’s-stomach portrayal of Twue Wove is starting to get to me. I understand authors and screenwriters often choose to expedite the falling-in-love portion of the plot in order to get to the action, but when nearly every book and film relies on this love-at-first-sight trope, it does a disservice to us all. While I’ve said before that learning the difference between fictional trope and real life is part of growing up (and I stand by that), I also can’t help but think there’s something fundamentally incoherent about a plot in which chaste teenagers fall in love at the drop of a hat. The phenomenon of LAFS (a.k.a., infatuation) is based on physical attraction and desire, and the feeling doesn’t persist in most relationships. Cracked columnist John Cheese recently wrote some wise words regarding healthy relationships:

And please, please note that when I talk about enjoying the girl’s company, I am not referring to that breathless worship where you think she’s a magical goddess, where you feel the gut butterflies every time she walks past and you go aaaawwwww every time she farts. Pop songs have taught you this is what it’s all about (“Every Little Thing She Does is Magic”? Fuck you, Sting, your songs are full of bad relationship advice). If you’re still in “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” mode, you don’t even fucking know this person. You’re still treating them the way you would treat a celebrity, projecting onto the real person a fantasy that lives in your head. Anyone who says they’re still feeling the butterflies after fifty years of marriage needs to see a cardiologist because there’s some serious medical shit that needs fixed right goddamn now.

Bella is constantly “woozy” or “dizzy” or “dumbfounded” because of how gorgeous Edward Cullen is. In real life, kiddos, hotness gets old, fast. As Rosie O’Donnel said in one of the greatest movies about the quarterlife crisis (NSFW): “No matter how perfect… unless there’s some other shit going on in the relationship besides the physical, it’s gonna get old.“

The face of true love is a cheap James Dean knock-off.

Some thoughts:

• The protagonist from the modern timeline felt so much like a Mary Sue that I wanted to punch him (and by extension, Neal Stephenson) in the face. Not for being a Mary Sue necessarily, but for being modeled on a type of real-world personality that I found just grating as a main character: the socially-awkward computer programmer with an obnoxious obsession with details and a complete inability to understand women…
• …Or I should say “complete inability to understand a woman.” That there are few female characters in a story about the 1990s telecom industry isn’t a huge deal to me, and Stephenson has written at least one line* that proves to me that he’s cognizant of real-world sexism. In fact, many of his characters, both male and female, bleed together and are only differentiable by their names. I just find it far-fetched that the manic-pixie-dream-girl love interest
  • actually returns the affections of the main protagonist
  • not only returns them, but temporarily goes bat-shit crazy when she thinks she might be getting led on.
  • is strongly hinted to still be a virgin in her (presumably) late 20s or 30s
• The ending feels rushed and flat. A bunch of loose threads get tied up and connections are made between the two timelines with very little revelatory fanfare, an antagonist is killed off in a most unbelievable way, nothing happens for a couple of pages, and then boom, it’s over. No aftermath, no “happily ever after.” It just ends.
• I would have liked to see the themes regarding electronic, gold-backed currency, modern day government surveillance, and “holocaust avoidance” expanded upon more. The digital currency part especially piqued my interest since the BitCoin craze happened while I took a multi-month hiatus from this book.

Currently, I’m reading the first Twilight book. I starting reading out of curiosity (I’ve heard it’s pretty bad, but I wanted to see for myself), but an hour later, I realized I was already 50 pages in. My opinion so far:

• The writing is bad. Terrible, really. The narrative structure is one in which Stephenie Meyer literally describes day after day of Bella’s life. “I woke up…” “I walked down the stairs…” “I got in my car…” “I walked to class…” “I saw Edward…”
• I’m entertained by how wonderful, beautiful, amazing, ethereal, charming Edward is described as being, for a couple of reasons. First, it’s an interesting subversion of the common treatment of female leads in pop culture as being little more than pure beauty, physically realized. Second, because being around an unnaturally attractive man who displays high levels of social acuity and who seems to take an interest in you can be absolutely nerve-wracking. He’s handsome, suave, confident, and intimidating to the average insecure 17-year-old. He’s out of Bella’s league, and she knows it.
• That said, Edward Cullen is a complete asshole.
  • Anytime Bella is justifiably angry or frustrated with him, he dismisses her anger by telling her she’s being “weird” or “moody.” This is a warning sign that he’s at best an insensitive jerk, and at worst an abuser.
  • He never explains his coquettish, hot-and-cold behavior toward Bella, other than through intentionally abstruse comments meant to make him seem mysterious. In real life, if a guy says something like “you should stay away from me. For your own good” after he’s invited you to lunch, it means he’s trying very hard - and very transparently – to make you think that he’s enigmatic or dangerous. (I’ve seen this done as a sort of PUA tactic in real life – needless to say, that guy was a tool, and his game was weak sauce).
• Frustration: If I’m going read schlocky, poorly-written romance, I at least want some friggin steam in it, for crying out loud.

All that's missing is a ribbon tied around one wrist to hide the scars... of adolescence.

I’m not sure if I’ll finish Twilight or not, but I’m thinking about what’s next. My top choices include John Dies at the End, God Emperor of Dune, Catch-22, Neuromancer, or another few chapters in House of Leaves (I pick that book up every few years, read 50 or so pages, then abandon it, frustrated with the outrageous typesetting and the fact that the story still doesn’t seem to be going anywhere). Of course, I’m open to suggestions.

*”It was, of course, nothing more than sexism, the especially virulent type espoused by male techies who sincerely believe that they are too smart to be sexists.” – from Snow Crash

At the same time, incomes among lower- and middle-income workers have been shifting from cash wages to non-cash benefits such as health insurance and pensions. These non-cash benefits frequently do not show up as taxable income even though they have value to the worker. In fact, a recent study by Mark Warshawsky of the Social Security Advisory Board suggests that nearly all of the recent increase in earnings inequality “can be explained by the rapid increase in the cost of health insurance employee benefits, and that therefore [there] has not been as significant increase, if any, in inequality of compensation.”

Econ 101: People like cash. You don’t have to be a big-government welfare-statin’ progressive type to understand that in-kind payments are worth much less than cash equivalents. This was the entire point behind Milton Friedman’s proposed negative income tax. It’s not at all obvious that employees put the same dollar value on their health plans as the employers that pay for them do. (Of course, you can and should blame this on tax treatment of employer-provided health insurance, as well as the overall market for health care in the US which shields buyers from price information).

Second: What the frak is with these goth-kids and their love of ugly, clunky, synthetic-materials shoes? Behold, via Goths Up Trees:

If I were to guess, I’d say that these shoes are all purchased at Hot Topic and are all made of a non-permeable pleather that gives the wearers wicked-bad blisters, cracks like fine china on the first cold day of the school year, and makes any feet inside them smell like wet dog. Also, I reckon those 4-inch soles have ZERO traction on icy sidewalks.

I know teenagers usually have limited incomes and aren’t known for being the most fashion-forward age demographic, but I have some advice. Goth kids: save your allowance and invest in a pair of well-made leather boots with soles that don’t scream “I’m a 15-year-old who just recently graduated from Twilight to Vampire Diaries.“*

*I’m assuming Vampire Diaries is a show that teenagers watch. I’ve heard the name before, and I’m pretty sure one of the former castmembers of LOST is on it, right?

Fellow IWFer Carrie Lukas points out that affirmative action has come to an absurd full circle: college campuses are now lowering the admissions standards for men.

Would you rather have a salary of $80k and a guaranteed 8 hours of nightly sleep, or a salary of $140k with only 6 hours of sleep a night? Another fascinating post at You Are Not So Smart explains why your decision is probably wrong, and why “do what you love” is bad career advice.

Sally Pipes of the Pacific Research Institute gives a preview of what to expect from government-run health care systems.

Rapper B. Dolan pays tribute to NWA with his remake, “Film Tha Police.”

Radley’s list of suggestions for end-of-year charitable giving.

Mind-blowing statistic: Nearly 1 in 5 women claim to be sexually assaulted or raped in their lifetime.

Josh Barro explains that, in tough times, unions protect senior workers by sticking junior workers with the layoffs.

Clarifying Libertarianism for the Occupy crowd: “in more simple terms it means keeping the f***ing government out of the marketplace because a government that can influence wealth distribution will always be abused!”

Stephen Slivinski on why Newt Gingrich is no small-government conservative.

The New York Times asks why there are so few female execs in Silicon Valley. Penelope Trunk counters that “women are not complaining about the lack of VC funding [for female entrepreneurs] in the world. They are complaining about the lack of jobs with flexible hours.” And Jess3 says not to worry, the girls will catch up.

I cannot say enough good things about the new trailer for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, nor about how excited I am to be taken back to Middle Earth!

See you in 2012.

Authorities often dole out safety advice for women under the guise of prevention, and as many commenters will point out, we also advise people to lock their cars and to avoid unfamiliar, run-down neighborhoods after dark. These are common sense safety precautions, and for what it’s worth, it is good safety advice for any woman to keep her drink in sight (men too; I have male friends who suspect they’ve been roofied, though crucially, they were not raped in a state of unconsciousness). But the difference here, I suspect, is between opportunity and motivation. There’s a considerable difference between advising a woman not to get drunk and pass out at a stranger’s house party (an uncouth move for anyone), versus telling her not to wear sexy clothing/get intoxicated/go home with a trusted male friend. The first scenario can be justified (barely) as intending to avoid creating an opportunity for a rapist, while the second suggests that her clothing – or state of inebriation – itself motivates a rapist to attack her. And that’s just stupid. It’s like telling a car owner that they shouldn’t drive such a fancy, attractive-looking car, because they’re just asking to have it stolen. Like thievery, rape is wrong.*

Asking for ridicule? Maybe. Rape? Absolutely not.

Matters are more complex when you consider that the majority of rapes are perpetrated by an acquaintance of the victim. There’s also a well-documented connection between rape and binge-drinking. However, putting the responsibility on the woman not to get herself raped misses the point that the best way to avoid a rape situation is to not rape anyone. (And as my friend Pam said, why stop at warning women not to drink heavily? Why not advise women against being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or living in the wrong country when a war breaks out? Or being a disadvantaged ten-year-old boy who’s football team has a predatory coach?) Instead of targeting women with the message that their actions might cause somebody to rape them, the PLCB might consider running an ad targeting men with the message: “Binge drinking may cause you to get a bit rapey.” Or better yet, run an ad directed toward men that just says “Check your friends: they might get a bit rapey.” Putting the onus on women to prevent rape is a tacit admission from the powers that be in this country that if you get raped, your story will be met with skepticism, your rapist probably won’t be caught, your case probably won’t go to trial, your assailant will probably get off with minimal punishment. Moreover, the message completely ignores the fact that drinking alcohol and fraternizing with the opposite sex are activities that Americans tend to really enjoy, unlike leaving our unlocked cars unattended or wandering around dangerous neighborhoods at night. (This causes me to wonder if maybe the PLCB isn’t sexist, but instead is a paternalistic do-good quasi-prohibitionist agency, similar to Tobacco Free Kids or the creative force behind Reefer Madness. This revelation wouldn’t surprise me in the least, as prohibitionist whack-jobs tend to want to prevent people from enjoying intoxicants at any cost.)

Image source: Daily Mail

*Rape insurance? Sounds pretty out-there, but then again, kidnapping insurance exists.