As a kid, my parents always bought me shoes from Payless. This is how I uncovered the connection between Ayn Rand and Kris Kross. Let me explain...
It was a BOGO, and my parents thought it would be a great idea for me to get two pairs of the exact same shoe. Do you know what happens when a ten-year-old has two pairs of the same shoe? He wears both lefts to school. And yeah, he plays it off to his friends as intentional and all that mucho macho mess, but he still ends up getting yelled at by the powers who thought that the two-pair thing was a good idea and, as a lesson, is forced to label the inside and outside of his shoes L1, R1, L2, R2.
With stylistics like this, it was no surprise that everyone on the block looked to me for artistic expressions of moral purpose. Sweatpant cut-offs, PlayStationed shoes, socks higher than Method Man on Jamaican Airlines. I was warming it up and showing those fascist suckers how it was done. I didn't need Jordans or Pumps. I had Pro Wings.
But going into 6th grade, I succumbed to the peer pressure of statism. So I saved up, tossed the generics, and bought a pair of Reebok Classics. Did the new shoes detract me from my self-interested ways? Not when I was still secretly wearing girl’s jeans. What up Ms. Rand?
Friday, May 28, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Of Books for Women
The other night a friend was scanning the bookcase in my shared office.
“Are these books yours?” she asked.
“No, those are my mom’s. She’s really into Zizek, KRS-One, and cyborgs.”
Of course, I was kidding—my mom hates cyborgs. But is it that farfetched to believe that she’d be into Lacanian psychoanalysis and boom bap philosophy? Not when she (giver of birth) is currently reading the autobiography of an Olympic snowboarder, and I (finisher of marathon) am reading a book on the female brain.
Some might think this opposite book thing is cool—and it is cool to hear your mom’s take on 50 Cent’s new self-help title—but when company is over and spots a copy of Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough or The Go-Girl Guide: Surviving your 20s with Savvy, Soul, and Style, and they find out it’s mine, it can get weird.
“Wait, you’re reading that?”
“Actually, I just finished it.”
“You read the whole thing?”
“Yeah, I read the whole thing.”
“Why?”
At this point, I usually walk into trouble. I try to explain that I’m curious about how I, post-postmodern man, am being represented in this literature, something that is not targeted toward me, but which, in a way, is very much about me. Though it never comes out that way.
“I’m really into things that are not for me.”
“Like?”
“Like things that are for women.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, especially younger women and girls.”
“You’re into younger girls?”
“No…you…damn it...that came out wrong.”
Awkward justifications aside, I find these books very insightful. For example, in Marry Him, Lori Gottlieb writes that marriage is not about metaphysics. How true! Marriage should not be about some dairy guy who works out at the playground.
Throughout my savvy, soulful studies, I’ve also discovered three universal truths.
1. Males and females have different parts.
2. Only females can give birth.
3. Females tend to write more about the differences between males and females than males do.
Someday, if Mr. Barely Enough ever decides to show up, I plan to turn these truths into a book of my very own. And if the genre has anything to say about it, you can bet the cover will be painted with pinks and reds and that the title will not match the content inside. After all, according to Gottlieb and friends, I exhibit many of the characteristics of a stylish, independent woman—and stylish, independent women write books. Yay! And rawr.
“Are these books yours?” she asked.
“No, those are my mom’s. She’s really into Zizek, KRS-One, and cyborgs.”
Of course, I was kidding—my mom hates cyborgs. But is it that farfetched to believe that she’d be into Lacanian psychoanalysis and boom bap philosophy? Not when she (giver of birth) is currently reading the autobiography of an Olympic snowboarder, and I (finisher of marathon) am reading a book on the female brain.
Some might think this opposite book thing is cool—and it is cool to hear your mom’s take on 50 Cent’s new self-help title—but when company is over and spots a copy of Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough or The Go-Girl Guide: Surviving your 20s with Savvy, Soul, and Style, and they find out it’s mine, it can get weird.
“Wait, you’re reading that?”
“Actually, I just finished it.”
“You read the whole thing?”
“Yeah, I read the whole thing.”
“Why?”
At this point, I usually walk into trouble. I try to explain that I’m curious about how I, post-postmodern man, am being represented in this literature, something that is not targeted toward me, but which, in a way, is very much about me. Though it never comes out that way.
“I’m really into things that are not for me.”
“Like?”
“Like things that are for women.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, especially younger women and girls.”
“You’re into younger girls?”
“No…you…damn it...that came out wrong.”
Awkward justifications aside, I find these books very insightful. For example, in Marry Him, Lori Gottlieb writes that marriage is not about metaphysics. How true! Marriage should not be about some dairy guy who works out at the playground.
Throughout my savvy, soulful studies, I’ve also discovered three universal truths.
1. Males and females have different parts.
2. Only females can give birth.
3. Females tend to write more about the differences between males and females than males do.
Someday, if Mr. Barely Enough ever decides to show up, I plan to turn these truths into a book of my very own. And if the genre has anything to say about it, you can bet the cover will be painted with pinks and reds and that the title will not match the content inside. After all, according to Gottlieb and friends, I exhibit many of the characteristics of a stylish, independent woman—and stylish, independent women write books. Yay! And rawr.
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