Wrinkle Power: James Bond as an Endangered Species

Historian of bourbon.

Historian of bourbon.

”There’s one,” I say to my LSP, pointing to a thin man dressed in a fitted blue blazer. “There’s another,” I nod toward a middle-aged woman with a smart jacket and chunky jewelry. “But I can be even more specific,” I brag in my braggardly way. “See that slightly unkempt fellow with the earnest beard and elbow patches? He is definitely a labour historian.” One by one, I categorize the people entering the Sheraton New Orleans. “Historian of sexuality. Activist environmental historian. Economic historian of the determinist persuasion. Uh oh, check out the disillusioned grad student with recent haircut and sad bow tie.” We both sigh knowingly. Although I too am in town for the annual meeting of the American Historical Society, I am wearing jeans, sensible shoes, and a hoodie, heading out for a tour of the French Quarter. I should probably be fired. Continue reading

A Tribute to Bagel Heads

‘Wow these bagel heads are geniuses!’ I proclaim, showing the digital photos to my LSP. ‘They are not geniuses,’ he calmly announces. ‘They have saline in their heads.’ ‘Yes, but in the shape of a bagel,’ I protest defensively. Continue reading

Bad Tits

Can tits ever really be bad? The short answer is yes. But I am not going to give you that concise reply. Instead I will blather on about the history of breasts, Freudian theories of desire, and the politics of breast implants, all the while waxing poetic about my own lovely lady lumps. [What again?]. Continue reading

The Beauty Myth, Revisited

Gleefully Italian. Please keep your ranking to yourself.

Gleefully Italian. Please keep your ranking to yourself.

So this post is a few days late. Once you watch this video clip, which you have likely seen before, you will understand why I have been distracted:   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiAwpYIkRmU&feature=related

‘Quick,’ cries my LSP, ‘it’s the dance scene!’ I rush out of my home office to join him as he rests on the couch, taking a few days off to recuperate from a sudden, explosive illness. Ah Napoleon Dynamite. Is there anything he can’t do? Continue reading