My God. I Love a Reunion Special.

VH1 TV Shows | Music Videos | Celebrity Photos | News & Gossip

It Fills the Void

I feel like the blog-o-sphere has gotten quieter, recently. Perhaps we're just looking at the late fall, holiday ennui that strikes all of us and saps of our desire to emote, at least in such a bizarrely public format. Well, you know. Public in the sense that people could inadvertently read it. Private in the sense that most likely nobody will! And I'm comfortable with that. There's a certain amount of pleasure in even the slight promise of anonymity, such as it is. Anyway, I hope someone was as tickled by the objectivist personals as I was. I will strive to keep you updated on the absurdities of Ayn Randism, particularly as the global crisis launches it into even unprecedented levels of hilarity. Ah, to be fifteen again and mulling over the crisis of my own gigantic ego.

What else? Happily keeping a handle on what remains of my self-esteem (or self of steam, as my students would have it) while rejection emails trickle in. A few here, a few there. It's all good. U of Colorado, though, hit a certain level of suckiness by sending out a perfectly nice rejection letter (So sorry, we got a billion applications, appreciate the effort, so on and so forth) on Thanksgiving day. Who does that? Maybe people in Boulder are simply more enlightened, and it wasn't a big deal to take a moment off from dwelling on the atrocities of colonialism to tap out a mass email to the hundreds of people who are no longer in the running for the position in Ethnic Literature? Thanks! I will admit, though, that they darken my day for a moment each time I get them. Here's to hoping that I don't receive thirty in a single afternoon! Maybe some kind school will send me a batch of cookies as a consolation prize? Poor B got the brunt of my frustration yesterday when he asked QC and I how many interviews we had lined up. I think I'm just getting to the point where when anyone asks me that I'll start screaming like the cast used to on Peewee's Playhouse whenever anyone said the word of the day!

Long Time, No Bloggy

And there won't be any today. Instead, I bring you news from that other, parallel universe occupied by Ayn Rand fanatics. What could be better, more gut-ticklingly funny, even at a time of extreme uncertainty, financial collapse, and soaring unemployment, than Objectivist Personals! I reproduce below for your pleasure. You're welcome.

Via Slog, for you non-sloggers.

In the Free Market for Love

Posted by Erica C. Barnett on Tue, Nov 25 at 2:17 PM

Three attractive Objectivists at The Objectivist Center's 2006 Summer Seminar

From the listings on the Atlasphere, a dating and networking site for Objectivists (via New York Magazine):

waitingfordagny, Chicago, Illinois
I want to meet a serious woman who both challenges me intellectually and inspires me to noble things by her beauty.

mxjohnxm, Greenville, South Carolina
“One can’t love man without hating most of the creatures who pretend to bear his name.”

thustotyrants, Selden, New York
[I am] short, stark, and mansome.

You should contact me if you are a skinny woman. If your words are a meaningful progression of concepts rather than a series of vocalizations induced by your spinal cord for the purpose of complementing my tone of voice. If you’ve seen the meatbot, the walking automaton, the pod-people, the dense, glazy-eyed substrate through which living organisms such as myself must escape to reach air and sunlight. If you’ve realized that if speech is to be regarded as a cognitive function, technically they aren’t speaking, and you don’t have to listen.

Zak, Long Island, New York
I am rational, integrated, and efficacious. So far, I’ve never met a person who lives up to the standard I hold for myself (except online).

I take my relationships seriously. I am simply not attracted to many of the women in this world. I do not “hook-up” with girls. I only kiss those who deserve, and so far I have only encountered one who did. I would love to find someone I can learn something from; someone who challenges me to think; someone I can feel like I’ve won, rather than lowered myself to.

lostpainting, Hagerstown, Maryland
Please note: If you’re overweight, I won’t date you. If you believe in God, I won’t date you. If you vote for Democrats, I won’t date you.

Lewis, London, U.K.
I love intelligent, sassy girls, particularly those working in consulting or investment banking (but other fields are great too). Really, nothing is hotter than an accomplished girl in a suit, as long as she is willing to settle down and have my children. I want a girl who will support my ambitions against the naysayers in society.

Rob, Stanford, California
Ayn Rand ignited the fire within me that was searching for the right spark. My every action is guided according to my philosophy, and my philosophy is the philosophy of Ayn Rand.

I am interested in meeting someone that truly embodies the values and virtues of Objectivism. I have found very few women that have not already been beaten down to a flimsy, irrational, empty pulp. I have changed many girls’ lives, but no one has blown me away yet.

I never “hook-up” randomly, I never kiss a girl that doesn’t deserve mine. I have yet to find a girl deserving of my falling in love with her. But “other people” are secondary values no matter what, so finding someone is not a priority for me.

Illuminations

A slogger posted a link to the Mormon Stock Index. I knew they had their fingers in a lot of pies, but I didn't realize the diversity and ubiquity of those pies. This is good information, though, if we'd rather not help them fund future Prop 8 debacles. Dell? American Express? Marriott? Well, okay, I knew the hotels were Hellmouths. But Black & Decker? Ugh.

Struggling with Dismay

I write this as I'm preparing to go teach the second part of the fourth episode of Black.White. I've always thought of the show as not particularly progressive or interesting, just another one of these narratives about how much skin color contributes to and in part determines the way that the world interacts with us. Every decade or so cranks out at least one because we remain, in some fundamental way, unable to see things from perspectives other than our own. I was really surprised, in perhaps an incredibly naive way, by how hostile and defensive a few of my students were to a scene in which the black father on the show talks to his son about why he shouldn't be okay with the n-word. Immediately after, my confronto student, who I've written about before, started bellowing about how the father was standing in the way of racial progress. He started throwing the word around and talking about how ridiculous it was. Apparently, we should all use racial slurs freely as a way of taking their power away from them. Is this the post-racial world I keep hearing about? My second class, of course, was completely different. We managed to have a calm conversation about the show and how it engages with ideas about race in the U.S. today. We were able to talk about how the show frames the issues and what it's doing rhetorically. In my first class, I ended up asking my confrontos to not be so defensive. Now I don't know what will happen today. I've long said that I'll settle for anything short of overt hostility. Is it wrong that I'm relieved this is our last discussion-oriented day? I just hope I can make it semi-productive for the other students. Wish me luck.

Basically, I guess it's been a rough week. The Tuesday night high followed by a steadily increasing sense of dismay. At prop 8 and the other anti-gay rights legislation. At my co-worker who was furious that a non-citizen was elected to the presidency. At the security guard who blandly affirmed that he doesn't care about the 800,000 people who have lost their jobs this year and just generally doesn't feel much compassion for others. His only regret is that there isn't another Bush to put in office for another 8 years. That's how happy he is with the way things are. This from an ex-marine who probably doesn't make much more than 20,000 a year running necking teenaged couples out of mall parking lots after hours. I'll have something nice to say next time, I'm sure of it.

Sturm und Drang

...which, incidentally, as I've just discovered, is the name of a Finnish metal band. B, you must have known this already. It also expresses, quite adequately, the general tenor of this semester. Hence the lack of blogging. Q and I are taking turns talking each other down off the ledge, though lately, to be fair, she's been doing most of the talking and I've been doing most of the near-leaping. But here we are. Mostly, I'm maintaining of balance of dread and excitement. Running helps. Food helps. Kitties help.

First, the job market: Wow. I've already received one rejection, and one university lost their funding for the position I applied for. Today, though, I'm mailing five more applications to bring me back up to a total of 50. I really can't decide how I feel about this. My understanding is that you're supposed to keep looking at ads as they keep trickling out year round. I had to force myself to do this yesterday and only barely suppressed feelings of nausea while clicking through the pages. But then I think that the job for me might be the one I don't apply for! You can imagine. So, this is exciting in a way. It's the culmination of so very many years and so very much work. Not to mention the sacrifice of full adulthood in exchange for a grotesque, protracted adolescence (of which I am reminded every time I speak with my family). I'm excited at the prospect of starting over somewhere. Of having a real job. Of . . . beginning, really. Again. What balances and occasionally overwhelms all that sunshine is the prospect of getting fifty more rejections. Slough of despond? Here I come.

Teaching: I can't complain, really. I did get that one gem about Victorians that pretty much redeems a lot of other things. I still have the angry confronto, but he seems to have diverted his ire away from me directly and more toward the major injustice facing white men in America today (the only "legally oppressed group," in his words): affirmative action. Other than that, he's mostly fine, and even my white power kid doesn't seem overly upset by having to read bell hooks. Or maybe he's just punching walls every time he leaves my class? Tough to say. As I like to say, I'm happy with just about anything short of overt hostility. I said this to a man who teaches in the African-American studies department recently, and it cracked him up. The exciting news is that I think I might get to teach a one-credit seminar in the Spring on a topic of my choice. I proposed a course via the website for this special program, and it looks like I'm being approved! Though, as I confided to my office mate yesterday, I feel like kind of a fraud because the website specifies "distinguished faculty" as the people who teach this class. My sense is that they probably have a hard time getting "distinguished" faculty members to propose the courses because they don't pay much at all. In fact, one faculty member told me he'd never done it because it isn't enough money. And, indeed. But this isn't why I want to do it. If I get the class, I'll no doubt write more about it. I just can't help but be cautious until I see my course listed on their seminar offerings page. And then people have to sign up for it. Keep your fingers and toes crossed!

By the way, has anyone had the opportunity to see any of the new Charm School: Rock of Love Girls? Fucking fantastic. In fact, I'm miffed that it isn't on today, so I can watch it during my run. Real Chance of Love looks like the worst, lamest spin-off evah. And this coming from me.

For Queercat

The hilarious, existential angst of Jon Arbuckle, Garfield Minus Garfield. Ummm. Feeling a little interpellated right now. Resisting.