Year / 2005

by Edward Champion

Shorter and Shorter

During a particularly harsh bout of insomnia that involved carrying on a colloquy with my skull, I buzzed down my hair to the shortest length that it has ever been. Now it was pretty short to begin with, but this time, I used a #1, dammit. I shaved the pesky fuzz down mercilessly. Not Max Barry length, but pretty damn short. My hair is tantamount to a Chia Pet in the early stages of growth. The early reports are in:

OPINION: “You look more like a dude.”
ANALYSIS: Was I not masculine enough before? Or do some women require a je ne sais quoi Mr. Clean makeover in order to remain convinced that said dude does indeed possess a Y chromosome and maintain an unabated ardor for mammaries?

OPINION: “Did you get a haircut?”
ANALYSIS: No, I didn’t actually. I woke up and my hair grew magically shorter. Glad you noticed.

OPINION: “Wow, you’re going bald.”
ANALYSIS: Thank you. I wasn’t aware of this.

I am very close to doing without hair altogether.

by Edward Champion

Chick Lit, Feminism and the Double Standard

Funny how when it comes to a form like comics being bastardized, Jessa Crispin has no problem broadsiding the critics for declaring a specific genre less than literary. But that apparently isn’t the case when it comes to chick lit. Without citing a single example, Crispin suggests that “chick lit treats women like they’re stupid.” Well, that’s interesting. Because while reading Weiner’s latest, Goodnight Nobody, I didn’t really get the sense that the female characters within its pages were stupid. And while I never really cared for the Bridget Jones books (although I have enjoyed the three Weiner novels that I’ve read), I never got the sense that these novels were contributing to idiotic depictions of women. Unless Crispin somehow believes that any book featuring a professional woman who pursues a relationship or contends with family or pregnancy is dumb (which, interestingly enough, would discount nearly all of the books she links to). Even when certain “chick lit” novels disagreed with me, I nevertheless applauded these books for placing women’s issues to the forefront and having the courage to place these plots within popular literature.

One might dislike the genre of popular literature, but from a feminist perspective, it’s a mistake to dismiss the potential effects of popular art towards pointing out the silent rules and folkways which insist women must act in a certain way.

I think what Weiner is commenting upon in this interview is the double standard. Sure, a popular author like Stephen King can be published in the New Yorker and get mad props from literary maestros. But if a woman is a popular author (like Jennifer Weiner), she’s given the snobbish Sittenfeld-style treatment by her peers. Why is there such a double standard?

In fact, I applaud Weiner for featuring one of the most realistic (and hilarious) sex scenes I’ve read in a novel this year, complete with a woman flustered by her husband’s tired advances and the husband clueless enough to wear nothing but black socks to bed (and let’s face it, men, we’re all guilty of this, even when we’re told not to). I certainly haven’t seen sexual failure presented in such candid terms within a single literary novel I’ve read this year.

by Edward Champion

Lovebirds in Prison

If, like me, you’re looking for that special someone, it’s always good to keep your options open. But if you’re the type to play with fire in this department, thankfully, the shady folks over at Meet an Inmate have set up what may very well be the 21st century’s answer to the mail order bride (particularly given increasing incarnation rates). If you are a red-blooded male, for only $3 each, you can obtain the contact information for a prison inmate of your choice. (Male addresses are free. So you’re in luck, ladies!) Match.com, schamtch.com! The site has categorized the inmates by age — all of them featuring a picture. For each entry, you’ll find out the release date and what “activities in prison” each inmate is involved in. But, strangely enough, you won’t get the answer on what the inmate’s doing time for. (Well, I suppose you need to maintain enigma somewhere.)

If you’re willing to accept a potential lover’s “ruthless past”, into girl next door types who aren’t into shortcuts or you’re a 50-60 year old man into Geminis who work out, then the sky’s the limit!

Sure, your potential sweetheart might have stabbed someone in the back (literally!) or might be able to give some video game junkie-cum-romantic the real definition of “grand theft auto.” But if Hollywood treacle is any reliable indicator of life, then I think we can all agree that “love conquers all.”