Anne Applebaum annoyed me with her clueless stereotyping of Russian women, but she downright freaked me out the other day when she went to bat for Roman Polanski. Her subsequent defense of her comments is even worse – Applebaum has the nerve to call the victim’s testimony “salacious.” I don’t even know what to say to that. No joke I could crack right now could possibly be grim enough. Paul Campos is right, for Applebaum, it quite obviously comes down to “slut was asking for it.” Applebaum lives in a universe where some women – Russians, pretty little American models – can be consumed and spat out with impunity. A commenter on the Campos post probably put it best:
… Applebaum sees Polanski as one of the elite, with whom she self-identifies… Law and legal consequences are for the unwashed masses, not for the superior beings who hold sway in Washington’s celebrity circles. She certainly sees the girl as, at best, a DFH, who should have been glad to be drugged, raped, and sodomized by such a great man.
I recently read “Dead Man’s Holiday” by Nick Seeley, and I am in love with the story. You should be too.
Speaking of Nick, he’s editor-at-large over at JO, and JO recently published my piece, “The Fake Muhajaba,” which is now online. It was difficult for me to write this. The sad thing is, I left Jordan for good this year. I made the decision shortly after the piece was published. There isn’t a lot I can say about it in this space, though a part of me misses Amman, and always will. It’s just that I could never have a life there, and that was something I had to face eventually.
In other news, Penelope Trunk is all kinds of awesome. Miscarriage is a part of life. So is abortion. It’s perfectly normal to feel relief when a clearly unwanted pregnancy ends.
I didn’t think I’d like “Obvious Child,” but I did. Bonding on the couch in an abortion clinic, on Valentine’s Day – what could be cuter? OK, maybe it gets a little too cutesy at various points, but at least there’s no PBR.
Zombie Research has a cool note up on zombies & rigor mortis.
Ren lost her kitten and is facing a huge vet bill. There’s a donation button on her old blog. Click on it if you can spare something. It sucks to lose animals, especially when they go while still very young.
Ex-sex – this was very sad, and very well-written.
On a personal note, I recently got a compliment on this blog from someone whose writing I admire. It felt odd and miraculous that it happened, because I have been thinking of nuking this enterprise. I’ve been questioning everything that I’ve been doing on here, obsessing about how pointless and stupid and embarrassing it is. I’m not of the “never apologize, never explain” school of thought, and it’s never been clearer than right now.
Things have odd lately in general. I’ve become the girl who sits at the far end of the table, stares down into her wine glass, and bums everyone out. I know it’s going to pass, but goddamit, when? My ever-helpful aunt suggested it will take about 6 years. Hah. And then she wonders why I never come over for pie anymore. Grandma’s been telling me to go to singles’ nights with all of these forty-something middle-manager types, and saying that I look “just like a girl” (I’m 25, grandma, in civilized countries, that’s still young), and I finally told her that I’ll shoot myself in the face if she doesn’t stop, which was a cruel thing to say, except that it worked.
The upside to all of this is that I’ve lost so much weight that my previously nice, tight jeans can now be pulled off me without undoing a single button. Which could potentially be hot. Or dangerous.
Still, I’m not nuking this blog. Or my face. “Not yet. Not just yet.”