Devirginized Commenter

Sarah Haskins, I continue my one woman lovefest for you with the latest installment of Target Women: Skin Care.

Drat, reader. Embedding isn't working so to see this, go here.

Reader, weep. I was planning to keep this post light today in preparation for the second part of Outsourcing Clinical Drug Trials that I plan to subject you to later this week but I have become seriously bummed out by a comments thread on Jezebel. As you may know, I am a daily reader of the bloggers' smart, sparkly, feminist posts. But this nubbin which briefly mentioned Ryan Seacrest's maybe-gayness being escalated to possibly-def-gayness at the Oscars unleashed a stream of comments I found incredibly disturbing. The comments, which I'm chalking up to young, urban-dwelling fabulous provincialism, were all of the "what's the big deal, it's private" and trended toward such hostility to the idea that sexual orientation was anybody else's business I had to get all 70s feminist with a "the personal is political" comment.

I think it will be great day when folks are as unimpressed by queerness as they are by heterosexuality. But as evidenced by the recent victory of Prop 8 in California and multiple other anti-gay measures in other states, we're still a distance from that day. And celebrities, even icky ones like Seacrest, by virtue of their mad dollars and fame, are sheltered from the most brutal homophobia and for better or worse, likely to touch the most lives, are perfectly positioned to come out.
/rant over.

Pandora's been telling me about Iron and Wine. This wasn't the song I was thinking of but I became mesmerized by the flamenco dancers' strong arms, beautifully expressive hands and ultra-shiny hair. It's Boy with a Coin:



This the song I heard on Pandora, Naked As We Came