Don’t forget to check out the worst hoaxes of all time and the history of April Fool’s Day.

Discover it all at Museum of Hoaxes

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Mein Gott! It seems smoking is now forbidden in Germany. Initially I thought the Bavarians would reject such laws in favor of tradition, but no! Even the festival tents will be Rauchenfrei.

Smoking in fest tents will still be allowed in Rheinland-Pfalz, whereas in Bavaria it won’t, although most fest tents can be found at the October fest in Munich

German smoking ban to go into effect[435th Air Base Wing Public Affairs]

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Though we just got back from our most recent culinary adventure, the 2.0somethings crew is already gearing up for our spring break plans: The First Annual Blue Ribbon Bacon Festival in Des Moines, Iowa. The festival will be held at the High Life Lounge on March 1. According to The Register, “PBR will be offered for $1 a draw, paired with succulent dishes such as bacon-wrapped shrimp, little bacon cheeseburgers, a bacon-wrapped jalapeno and tater tot – all the gourmet bacon foods.” The festival will also include bacon-flavored craft beers, a “Blazin’ Bacon Bloody Mary, served with a slice of peppered bacon,” and maple bacon cheesecake. No word on whether EMTs will be standing by to provide on-the-spot bypasses.

Blue Ribbon Bacon Festival [2.0somethings.com]

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Just because we can’t possibly have had enough dogs on this site lately, here are a series of winners of the Cesar Dog Food “I Look Like My Dog” contest. Which one is your favorite? This is mine, because bulldogs are just too awesome.

Winers of the I Look Like My Dog contest [flyaboveall.com]

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To wit, I reference yesterday’s incident in McMinnville, OR: We find a gentleman, nearly naked save but for a pair of high heels, on a bench in the basement of a mostly vacant medical building. No word on what he was doing, or why.

Did he lose a bet? Was he just getting some kicks? Was it the prelude (or aftermath) of some larger fantasy? We shall never know, because after he was discovered, miss thing got the cops called on his 40 to 50 year old lookin’ ass. Some wag called 911 and soon two McMinnville police units responded. And some deputies from the Yamhill County Sheriffs Office. And some of the Oregon State Police. They surrounded the building because, y’know insane people are dangerous, and one could clearly see man’s nuts. (I’ve been dying to make that joke, thank you!)

The weird tranny disappeared without a trace, last seen fleeing down a hallway, still only wearing the heels without even a wig to cover his short white hair or baldness.

While the ability to escape such a dramatic situation cannot fail to impress, it was still a negative reflection on an already maligned demographic. So some of us like getting all fetched up in women’s clothes. Big deal, and there’s no crime in taking it out of the house, either. However, doing things in a way that’s obviously going to creep out other people is less a reflection on the tranny part and more on the mentally unbalanced part.

The situation here would have been the same if the man was wearing combat boots. But would that reflect on the military? No. However, the fact that he only had heels on makes all transgendered people look bad.

Nude Man in High Heels Causes Lockdown [ap.org

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Contributing to this prediction of doom is largely the fact that said girlfriend, Soanya Ahmad, is the tender, naive age of 23 years old, and she has never sailed outside of the Hudson river. Stowe, on the other hand, has lived aboard a boat for decades already.

They plan to be completely self-sufficient for the duration, including trapping rain water and desalinating sea water for potability. The 70′ double masted schooner, built by Stowe and his family, is crammed full of provisions, and both parties have undergone training in basic first aid. The Anne, as the schooner is named, is also outfitted with solar panels for their electrical needs. “The Mars Ocean Odyssey,” as they’ve called it, has been funded by individual contributions and corporate donations.

Reid Stowe is a lifelong adventurer, and given his experience and discipline I’m confident that he’s got the wherewithal to undertake such an expedition. But his companion is barely into her 20’s and I’m with the skeptics who fear that she’ll bug out and need to jump ship in less than the thousand day stretch.

N.Y. duo sets sail on 1,000-day cruise [ap.org]

1000 Days at Sea [1000days.net]

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None of these need be performed in order, save the first.

• The Preliminary Shot. Right off the bat, first things first. It will help him fortify his resolve to go forth and become the enormous asshole you require for the remainder of the evening. Make them a good n’ cheesy, like the Hairy Nipple, Anal Sex On the Beach, Rim Job, even the dreaded Purple Jesus. If you’ve gone to the right corny bar, the mixologist won’t require a recipe. Cruel friends may opt for more than one shot, but more than three in a row and you’re a pack of dicks.
(1 point)

• Strike out. Badly. Of course, this sounds easy, and it is, but when you know that the whole party is watching you and evaluating your body language, and hers, the pressure’s on and the tension can only build.
(2 points, 3 if she walks away, 5 if she throws a drink in his face, 10 if she actually leaves the bar.)

• The Phone Number. Also harder than it sounds when the gang is surveillant, but the bachelor must be able to get a girl’s digits. Said number must then be tested by the best man. If it goes to her cel or home phone, the mission is accomplished. If it rings a false number, the effort is null and void and must be attempted again.
(3 points)

• The Sympathy Drink. Actually it’s relatively easy to get a girl to buy a bachelor a round, especially if he’s obviously the focus of the party and says that it’s on his list of trials. Nevertheless, it’s embarrassing to have to ask; a nice girl will just offer.
(2 points)

• Shake The Moneymaker. Here’s where the challenges ramp up a little, separating the studs from the duds. All manner of resources are allowed, from promises of a bought round, to returned favors, but the bachelor somehow gets a girl to bed over and whake her ass. The trick is finding the right kind of girl at the right kind of bar. Caveat: Strip bars don’t count.
(3 points per girl, groups allowed!)

• The Twizzler Challenge. It’s a classic: The bachelor must entice a young lady to nibble a twizzler licorice out of his fly, in public. He can say it’s for his mission, he can beg and plead. It’s far easier to get a girl to do it in front of her friends than it is to get a single girl to do it, fyi.
(4 points)

• The Body Shot. About time for another drink, yes? Perhaps one from a cute girl’s navel, or even her decolletage? Manage this one without an apology, you will be evaluated by a judge from the group.
(5 points per, as it encourages excessive drinking.)

• The Public Snog. It’s a far cry from a blowjob in the bathroom, but it’s still up there in the risqué department, especially if your brother/father-in-law-to-be is along for the party and watching you make out with a different girl. NO PICTURES ALLOWED.
(7 points)

• Trophy Cups. If the bachelor is able to convince a young lass to remove her bra in public, he’s getting points.
(5 points, 7 if she lets him remove it, +3 bonus if she lets him keep it, +10 if he then wears it for at least an hour)

• The Anthony Michael Hall. That’s right, he’s got to go into the bathroom with a girl and come out with her panties. Men have inadvertently accomplished The Strike Out when attempting this one, beware.
(10 points)

• The Serenade. For some, this will prove to be one of the more challenging tasks. For others, it’s just a chance to show off and be an ass while embarrassing a completely innocent woman.
(5 points)

• The Barn Door. The Bachelor leaves his fly down. All night. Slightly off-putting for the boys, but increasingly disturbing for the man himself. He loses ten points if he ever zips up before a random girl, unprompted, tells him so.

• The Condom Fairy. Your man must submit to having about 20 assorted condoms pinned to his clothes. Perhaps he wears a name tag that says, “Hello, my name is: CONDOM FAIRY,” that’s the call of the Best Man. He then must wander the bar getting girls to take them off of him. Make sure at least one goes on his crotch. Easy task, slightly humiliating, and a very good way to familiarize him and his missions with random girls, segueing into conversations that may lead to other missives.
(10 points when all condoms are taken)

Depending on the whim of the party, you can set the point values and target number wherever you like.

Anyone have any other ideas for stupid/rotten/embarrassing/sexy/foolish tasks for the poor boob to accomplish?

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This one’s for the boys in the Lone Star State only!

Assuming that your wallet, like everything else in Texas, is big, here’s a great idea for a bachelor party: spend the day driving over a million dollars’ worth of sports cars.

DFI Elite Auto Rental, based in Dallas, Ft. Worth, Houston, Austin, and San Antonio will happily make this a possibility for you by way of their new program, DFW Drive Your Dream . They have several packages to offer in varying budgets, but the gist is essentially the same in each: You get to spend 20-30 minutes driving fantastically expensive luxury sports cars back to back over a pre-planned 250 mile course. A break in the middle promises a great lunch, and they send you home with a framed picture of your group with the vehicles.

Group rates are offered, and there are several tiers of horsepower available, each with it’ll-never-be-this-good-again-I-might-as-well-kill-myself-now droolworthy cars, the likes of which frequently get destroyed in Hollywood blockbusters. The rods you’ll drive in the cheapest package ($539 per person) are all convertibles, and include a ‘65 Corvette, ‘05 Dodge Viper SRT-10, a ‘05 Lotus Elise, a Mercedes SLK55, and a ‘05 Porsche Boxter Cabriolet.

However, if you have the dosh (and the balls), perhaps you’ll fork over the $1389 per person to drive the dream cars in the image above.

Caveats: nobody under 25 years old may drive the vehicles, your own insurance must cover all damages, and passengers must pay 35% of the rate just to ride alongside of you.

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A bit of background: I was a bartender for a few years at a theme bar in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, it was called the Safe House which had a spy theme, you had to know the password to get in, and a sliding bookshelf would open and lead you into a secret hallway. We had blackjack and novelty drinks and weird games, a piece of the Berlin Wall and some glass that Dillinger allegedly shot out while trying to escape form the feds. Secret escape passages, etc. Actually, it’s a pretty neat place that, should you find yourself in Milwaukee, you ought to check out once. And only once. If you do so on a Friday or Saturday, however, be warned that you’ll encounter at least one bachelor or bachelorette party and probably three.

I’ve been witness to at least a hundred of the lousiest, most tedious, unoriginal, bachelor/ette parties ever thrown. The people responsible for holding their parties at theme bars, cluttered with all the novelty dicknose glasses and breast-shaped beer steins should never have been put in charge of the affairs. The only thing that redeemed these events was booze and gallons of it; the only way to have fun during these toss-off parties is to get completely hammered. Though I made a ton of money pouring the hapless knobs into oblivion, I always felt awful for the grooms and brides, whose Best Mens’/Maid of Honors’ idea of a great send off was the celebratory equivalent of an Adam Sandler comedy: formula-driven, predictable, uninspired, yet strangely and enormously popular.

It’s easy to imagine that, years from now, when any number of old crews get together to bury one of their members, while some guy recalls the silly shenanigans at so n’ so’s bachelor party, every guy present might think, “hey, wasn’t that my bachelor party?” —and every guy would be right!

Please, guys. If your boy is getting married and you’ve been given the honor of making the bachelor party arrangements, have some originality. Put some thought into the affair, try to stay away from the trite and overused themes that we’ve all been party to over and over again. This is your big chance to show your love for your friend and brother. Unless the both of you are dullards and dolts, don’t you deserve something better than theme bars, strippers, and condom hats?

Final Fling With a New Ring: Bachelorette and Bachelor Party Consumers Increase in Online Activity and Creative Party Planning [sys-con.com]

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1. The right dudes: The bachelor party is the responsibility of the Best Man, but even a guy’s closest buddy may not know that his long lost cousin Ernie will be in town for the wedding. It’s important to assemble all the men (and in this day and age, even some of the women) who matter most to the groom for his big adieu. Don’t assume you know who everyone is; guarantee this by asking the groom to provide you with a list, including names, emails, phone numbers. Invite everyone as early as possible, remind them weekly, with updates and confirmed attendees so that nobody is surprised when they have to deal with some asshole they don’t like as much as the groom does.

2. Good booze: Ideally, this party will only happen once per fellow, and it’s a right and proper thing to toast his success with the new missus with quality hooch, at least one glass, even if the bridegroom loves his cheap swill over fine champagne. Good suggestions include rare whiskey, vintage vino, good cognac, expensive sake. And for the love of god, go slow on that stuff if you want it to be a long party because nothing will suck so much as anyone/everyone getting too shitfaced too early to drive it into the wee hours.

3. A really fine meal: Leave the six foot subway sammiches to the dogs, you’re out for a special, memorable experience. Make a reservation at a five star joint and let them know in advance that this will be a very important occasion. They’ll be flattered that you chose their establishment and they will bend over backwards to impress you. Consider arranging a prix fix menu du jour with the chef involving three or more courses so that everyone knows what they’re in for and any special diets can be accommodated; this way you can also pre-arrange your budget. In parties of six or more it is customary to include the gratuity in the bill, but it doesn’t hurt to ask when making the call. If they prefer this arrangement, ask that it be set at 20%. Also – it will be the Best Man’s sole responsibility to tip the maître d’ separately. Don’t chintz out on this, you’ll get exceptional service as a result, from soup to nuts.

4. Look sharp: There’s a time to skitkickers and blue jeans, and there’s a time for your nattiest spitpolish and shine. Which one do you suppose this event is? There are plenty of reasons to get slicked up for a bachelor party, not the least of which is the respect it fosters within members outside of the group for the party. Moreover, being well-dressed somehow forces us to be on our best behavior as gentlemen, and to act with respect both for ourselves and each other. More and more of us are getting married later and later; after the college years there’s no excuse for not being able to pull off a class act upon demand. Here’s a gorgeous opportunity to show off some style and refinement.

5. Bring lots of money: Nothing brings the fun to a halt like having to find an ATM or pooling resources to pay off the bill. Plan accordingly! This also translates into the obvious that if the collected group is financially compromised, you may have to cut corners where possible, such as throwing the party at a private residence and taking up funds in advance to stock the food and booze accordingly. It doesn’t mean that the soirée need suck by comparison, as ultimately, the party is only as much fun as the members who comprise it.

6. Stock the party favors in advance: Ain’t vices grand? Have all of them on hand before the evening begins. Buy the mundane stuff (candy, breath mints, smokes, etc.) the day before the event, but if you have a taste for anything exotic and possibly illegal—ahem—score that shit ahead of time, sit on it like Potsie Webber, and bring it up as needed when and if the mood strikes. Dashing off to visit your dealer in the 11th hour is totally uncool, and worse is having him invade your unit coherency once the fête is already in progress.

7. Schedule it well before the nuptials One obvious tip that still needs mentioning is to hold this a good week or so prior to the wedding! Who the hell wants any of you, least of all the groom, to show up to the chapel stinking of bordellos and booze?

8. Novelty gifts: Soooooo trite. Sooooo cliché. From blow up dolls to edible undies to fuzzy handcuffs to the ol’ ball and chain, they’re unfortunately the staple of the bachelor party. I’d suggest that they be avoided outright, but most of you wouldn’t listen anyway. Just don’t overdo it. Even though that stuff is all cheap crap that’ll be left behind (god forbid any of it is saved or actually used!), it still costs money and when everyone pops out with an inflatable sheep it’s just plain tacky.

9. Non-novelty gifts: Here’s what separates the men from the gentlemen. If you’re in the wedding party, or close enough to the groom to really matter, it’s an increasingly popular tradition to present him with a manly gift of quality upon the eve of his marriage. It can be a small token of your esteem or just a gesture of goodwill and good fortune. Common examples include a nice set of cufflinks, some collar stays, a tie pin, a boutonnière pin in a precious metal, a nice watch. Offbeat but interesting gifts could include some really sharp sunglasses, a great pair of shoes, a bottle of something very nice for a private occasion with the bride, even a really fine set of PJ’s or a smoking jacket.

An interesting choice might be something to hold on to that symbolizes his spirit and his individuality before marriage. I once heard of a groom receiving a tricked-out skateboard from a pal who wanted to make sure that he never forgot the passion of his youth.

10. Strippers/dancers/sexy female friends: Along with the stupid novelty presents, the presence of dames is a mainstay of the bachelor party. Most often you’ll wind up taking your man out to the local jiggle shack, and that’s just fine, even if it’s so run-of-the-mill and mundane it’s boring to discuss here.

A lot of folks who take their party in a residence will arrange for some dancers to come out for a private show. In these cases expect there to be a beefy dude waiting in a car outside or, as often as not, he’ll come in and watch from a removed distance. (I did that on the side for several years.) It’s worth throwing him a $20 to set him at ease and let him know that he can relax, as his women are clearly with a respectful group; it’ll also send the dancers the same message, and your gang will almost certainly get a better show. Tip like money is going out of style in any case; the very act of tipping makes us feel good.

Conversely, it’s common for arrangements to be made with female friends of the best man, or even old girlfriends to come and send the groom off with a personal touch (that may or may not be a pun). She/they show up at the bar/restaurant/home where your event is going down, and spend a few drinks’ worth of time making the poor fellow feel uncomfortably aroused and teased and embarrassed, much to the delight of his fellow men. Be very careful with this option! This is one great way to get your boy in dutch with the bride if she finds out/is sensitive about such things.

Under no circumstances should anyone take pictures of this section of the evening, or discuss it to any length with the bride. Of course the temptation is great. But this is not to be documented for anyone’s posterity. It’s uncool and unclassy to get your friend in trouble, and it’s disrespectful to rub the bride’s nose in it. My brother’s best friend actually called his bride-to-be from the road and described the entertainment over the phone to her. I damned near beat his stupid face for that.

11. Take a trip: This option is another increasingly popular tradition in the age of too much disposable income and cheap flights. The typical sortie is the ol’ mad dash to Vegas, for gambling, girlie bars and all manner of vice, and yep, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (sure it does). Perhaps you could be more creative than that and try a weekender in Atlantic City, Montreal, or Paradise Island. Even a boy’s git-down out at a retreat in the woods for paintballing and bonfires is an interesting alternative to the norm, but that edges into the following…

12. Exotic adventure: he’s about to make one of the biggest leaps of faith in his life, why not symbolize this with a jump out of a plane? Or maybe a crazy ride down some white water rapids? Hell, if you don’t mind making the bride worry about the bachelor party events, strippers and hookers are really bottom drawer compared to a bungee jump or an ultralight ride. Here’s a thought-provoking article along these lines [palmbeachpost.com].

13. Personal services. No, not a rub n’ tug. But a massage is definitely a nice way to start the festivities, as god knows getting married is a stressful thing. Why not take your pal out to a gentleman’s day spa? There are tons of them, including the recently covered John Allan’s. Women aren’t the only ones who enjoy being pampered and groomed before big events, y’know. Schedule a day at the spa for or even with your boy on the afternoon before the party and you’re off to a great start.

14. Day After Care: All in all, the odds are stacked that by the time the sun rises you’re all going to be well on the way to pain. You’ve eaten, drunk, snorted, smoked, run amok, and treated your bodies like a playground. Time to repair that damage. Keep multivitamins within arm’s reach, purified water, freshly squeezed juice, good bacon and fresh eggs and solid bread for toasting. Perhaps arrangements could be made to have breakfast catered, how classy would that be?

15. Day After Care, Part 2:You’ve hurt him, you’ve beaten him, you’ve embarrassed and humiliated and roasted and toasted him into a nearly unrecognizable state. He’s a husk of his former self, and now you’re going to release your catch back into the arms of his betrothed in that state? How inconsiderate of you, how disrespectful is that? Instead, how about making sure that his sleeping arrangements are secure, at a hotel or your spare bedroom, or at the very least your couch. Plan with the bride in advance that she won’t see him until the following afternoon—at best. This will give him adequate recovery time, enough to subdue the hangover, rehydrate, eat a solid meal, and take a shower. Send him back in one piece, smelling decent, and fully functional. She’ll appreciate it. Remember, once the bachelor party is over, he’s her property again, and as his good friend and ally, you want to come through this smelling sweet yourself…especially if you want her to let him play with you from time to time. This is where that starts.

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The edges have been good and worn off of the marriage by then. You’ve seen each other vomit a few times, you pee in front of each other (and in some particularly intimate relationships the dreaded #2 as well), you’ve possibly changed some diapers together, dealt with taxes, found that certain aspects of each other’s personality, once charming, are now near-insufferable. One or both of you probably has a few extra pounds in places that don’t quite work, and your sex life has probably taken a hit. You’ve begun to relish the moments apart as much as the good moments together.

It’s inevitable that the honeymoon is over after a few years, there’s nothing you can do about it but embrace this fact as gracefully as possible. In fortunate cases all of this has somehow led you to a point of a deeper love for each other. In others, it has a dampening effect, obeying that lousy law of diminishing returns. Lifestyle patterns give way to routines, which harden further into ruts. Ennui sets in tender teeth which slowly gnaw away. Something primal begins to itch within your soul, a hungering for new thrills, for excitement. We begin to fantasize about every other woman we see, even ones we wouldn’t have given a second glance to a few years prior. But what we really want is for all of our old drinking buddies to be in the same goddamned boat as us.

Married couples are always putting pressure on their friends to make the leap and join them in the matrimonial stew. We envy the sense of freedom and irresponsibility that our unwed buddies still enjoy, we resent that we must bear witness to and live vicariously through our single chums’ seemingly more exciting lifestyles. The proverbial grass is never greener than on the lawn of our unmarried pals; it’s far easier to coax them into the same trap as us than to escape our own and join them in the pack once more. Besides which, it provides us with a thoroughly sanctioned excuse to kick up some serious shit at the bachelor party.

Misanthropic scumbags that we are, we joyfully regale our grooms-in-training with plastic balls and chain, amidst pealing laughter and cries of “it’s all over now,” “hand over your checkbook,” “welcome to the club, buddy!” Now that we’ve helped guide them into the approach vector, we paint the landing strip with somber tones of doom, handing the hapless boob yet another shot of tequila and another fiver for the stripper.

Perhaps at no other time in their friendship are men so brutal to each other than at the bachelor party. After baiting them for months, years, extolling the virtues of marriage to our single compadres, we suddenly pull the switch on them in their weakest moments while they’re nervous, drunk, and the center of attention. We ask them all night in word and deed, “are you sure you wanna do this? Give all this up? There’s no turning back!”

What we’re actually doing is testing their mettle. We stuff the night chock full of bacchanalian delights in wine, women, and song, we insist that all this goodness will be done when they say “I do,” and we laugh at their folly. But the real point is the excessiveness of it all, the oversaturation of our friend with decadence, leaving him sick and over-glutted by morning. If we’ve done our job correctly, he’ll be gazing deep into the bottom of a toilet, heaving away in technicolor regret, thoughts barely assembled, save for one solid notion: As awful as marriage could possibly be, it’s got to be better than this.

As he curses our names for poisoning him so mercilessly in body and spirit, he conversely sings the praise of his bride, his redeemer of all man’s ills. She is his savior, his salvation, and in looking down upon his frail and stinking mess and somehow loving him in spite of himself, his woman bestows nobility upon him and raises him up into a higher place.

Though marriage may be a gilded cage, perhaps it is also a protective barrier against the debauched foolishness of a single life; a proper bachelor party drives this point home like nothing else.

(image: Target For Matrimony, Steve McNeil, 1952)

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Yes, let’s be fair, it’s the tune we hate, not the truck itself, though the two are inseparable. One doesn’t encounter the truck without being assaulted by the Mr. Softee jingle…echoing down the boulevard, around corners, through alleyways, into the darkest recesses of your heart. The tune can penetrated your very dreams. There’s not a soul alive over 15 who doesn’t hold that jingle in utter contempt. For years we’ve referred to the bastard Mr. Softee as the neighborhood terrorist. I’ve even written the company hate mail.

Enter the like-minded but more motivated Jeffrey Lopez and Lauren Rosati, who have inaugurated a project they’ve called, “Ice Cream Headache”, and here’s where the people come in: You send an email to info@suite405.com with the subject line, “ICE”, and in return they send you an audio file of the original jingle; you are free to reinterpret it any which way you choose so long as it does not exceed five minutes in length. The deadline for submissions is April 30th.

Later, the duo will themselves be driving a Mr. Softee truck through each of the five boroughs, playing the audio samples and distributing CDs and free ice cream, finally ending in Williamsburg, where live performances of some sort will ensue.

As per the samples submitted, they note the following:

the noisier and muddier the better–this is a brain freeze after all.

Chime Spree [TimeOut.com]

Ice Cream Headache [suite405.com]

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Why garden naked? First of all, it’s fun! Second only to swimming, gardening is at the top of the list of family-friendly activities people are most ready to consider doing nude. Moreover, our culture needs to move toward a healthy sense of both body acceptance and our relation to the natural environment. Gardening naked is not only a simple joy, it reminds us–even if only for those few sunkissed minutes–that we can be honest with who we are as humans and as part of this planet.

Personally, I’m all for people in general having a healthier body sense. Learning to accept yourself as a-ok the way God made you is a really healthy thing to do. But the idea of having my naked junk anywhere near spiders and slugs is more than enough to make me want to wear pants, thanks.

World Naked Gardening Day [wngd.org] (Obvious NSFW applies, plus there are pictures of people you may not want to see naked at the link.)

(image: gobuki.com)

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It posed questions such as, what are white male identities? How many are there? What is behind the power structure of patriarchy and how is it perpetuated?

As reported by Wabash undergrad Brandon Stewart,

The lecture began with the bold assertion that men have multiple identities. ‘Other groups’, said Brod, ‘have already realized this, but white men haven’t had to face this fact because those who are in power have the privilege of not being reflective about themselves.’ As he put it, ‘men have a gender, whites have a race, and straights have an orientation. Too often…white males tend to “other” everyone who is not like them without including themselves in a category. Everyone else is defined in their relation to straight white men.’ “

One can absorb this observation and find it perfectly apparent, at least in previous eras, but the question arises: is this standard still relevant across the board? Are straight white males not growing, as a group, more socially conscious and aware of the “other” groups surrounding them?

It must come down to economics and power. Straight white males in extremely strong economic stratas, who hold positions of power in both their professional and personal lives, are certainly far more able to isolate themselves from interacting with the greater world, and hence, are less prone to observe and learn from said “other” groups’ experiences and lives. Subsequently, the postulate that Dr. Brod offers does seem to hold up, at least in that regard.

For the rest, it seems to me as though this is breaking down, more and more. I do feel as though we’re all becoming more socially conscious, more globally aware, relating more to each other across gender, sexual orientation, and race divisions. I recognize how, for example, when racial integration first became a major issue in this country, the overwhelming push was to suppress the qualities that individualized other races from the dominant white culture. In effect, turning everyone into a marginalized version of itself was how the white culture was able to accept them.

Today it seems clear that these “other” cultures and races are less and less so suppressed. Racial pride is celebrated and respected, particularly when animosity and exclusivity is removed (though it can be argued that a certain amount of hostilities are still a fundamental part of many cultures in respect to the still arguably dominant S.W.M. culture). The differences between the races and gender preferences, as well as the genders themselves, are being increasingly acknowledged, appreciated, and respected by all parties, which allows for a greater and more meaningful integration now than ever before. Moreover, this does seem to be out of any sense of political correctness, but rather an earnest desire for understanding and unification.

Perhaps my perspective is not an accurate representation of the way things are on the larger scale; my vision is perhaps rose-colored because I live in one of the most culturally diverse cities on the planet, and we have had to learn to live amongst each other, with greater tolerance and respect than most of the rest of the country, and for longer to boot.

I’m interested to learn if anything resembling this kind of progress has taken hold in other parts of the country, or within said “other” races. I’d like to think so; it’s about time.

Professor Asserts Men have Multiple Identitites [wabash.edu]
(Image:Dr. Harry Brod)

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I have to say, it took big brass balls for the three masked men to burgle a big fat brick of gold that weighed 220 pounds, especially being that they did it in broad daylight with crowds present. Well done, lads!

Of course, it helped that there were no alarms, no sensors, and evidently no armed security present guarding the bar, worth around $2.1 million. Banzai!

Burglars Steal 220-Pound Gold Bar [redorbit.com]

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Supermodel (and uberbitch) Naomi Campbell got pissed off at her maid last year because a pair of her jeans went missing,. Instead of firing her, suing her, or publically trashing her like a good little celebrity does in the media, Naomi just chucked her swavorski crystal-encrusted blackberry at the woman, hitting her in the noggin. Injured her enough to require a hospital visit. Nice aim, bitch.

Naomi Campbell was sentenced for her attack: She has had to pay for the maid’s medical expenses, attend two days of anger management classes, and today she began the third part of the ruling: she’s going to spend the next five days cleaning a public garage as part of her community service.

Campbell Begins Community Service in NYC [redorbit.com]

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On Tuesday, March 20th, 2007, teams of brave competitors will go head-to-head in the world’s only competitive eating vending machine event. This contest unites gastronomical expertise, speed eating, physical dexterity, athletic skill, and sheer consumption strategy. Each team must rise to the following task: to consume the entire contents (minus packaging) of a standard vending machine. Upon the referee’s signal the competitors will be given a stockpile of dollar bills and change, and begin feeding currency into their machines while carefully selecting their eating approach.

The first team to successfully eat the the entire contents of the vending machine will be declared the winner.

Even if this were a charity to help save the gay baby seals from breast cancer, I wouldn’t want to be a loser, let alone the winner. However, I’d love to watch it; tickets to the event for non-members of LVHRD are $22.

LVHRD Announces the Master-Disaster Vending Machine Challenge II [lvhrd.org]

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It works like this: any order placed at The Electroids Co. until 11:59PM Eastern on Friday, March 9th that has the word “dethroner” in the referral field is automagically entered into a drawing to win a free iPod Shuffle or iPod Nano (this includes orders placed last week). There’s no limit on entries, but the number of potential winners is secret.

So all you have to do is make sure you enter “dethroner” (or any text containing the word) as your referral when you’re checking out. The referral field is hard to miss, and looks like this:

Good luck!

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