Speaking of Assaults to Sensibilities....

How can anyone think a chocolate jesus is any more offensive than this:

Wailing and Ganach-ing of Teeth

Naturally, when I hear the words "chocolate Jesus" and "Christian sensibilities" together, I just have to check it out. Turns out while I've been toiling away in school and internship, some blasphemous creative type carved a nekkid Jesus out of chocolate. Not since a former office-mate cried foul when Baby Jesus was replaced with a Tootsie Roll in her desktop nativity set has such sacrilege been perpetrated. Hailed as "one of the greatest assults on Christian sensibilities EVER (emphasis mine)" by Bill Donohue, himself one of the greatest assaults on rational sensibilities ever, the chocolate work was scheduled to be on display in a Manhattan gallery. It was scheduled, but has now been canceled following a religious candy fatwa issued by Donohue and Cardinal Egan. I guess I just wish that Christian sensibilities were offended to greater degree by assaults on human dignity such as war, poverty, and GW having the gall to salute the Tuskegee Airmen.

I couldn't help but think of Tom Waits' Chocolate Jesus:

When the weather gets rough
And its whiskey in the shade
Its best to wrap your savior
Up in cellophane
He flows like the big muddy
But thats ok
Pour him over ice cream
For a nice parfait

Well its got to be a chocolate jesus
Good enough for me
Got to be a chocolate jesus
Good enough for me

Well its got to be a chocolate jesus
Make me feel good inside
Got to be a chocolate jesus
Keep me satisfied

Politics and Breast Cancer

I was saddened to hear that Elizabeth Edwards is dealing with news that her breast cancer has returned and has metastasized. However, I have mixed feelings about how public discussion is currently centered around how her Stage IV metastatic breast cancer may be regarded as controllable. The article linked above offers potential medical interventions that may help control her disease and hopefully extend her life. This of course would be a wonderful thing--but let's not forget that they enjoy a privilege that millions of middle-class and poor Americans do not--comprehensive health insurance coverage and access to excellent medical care. Women with no insurance or inadequate insurance who present with stage 4 breast cancer with mets will likely be referred to hospice--not to an oncologist who can supervise a regimen of cutting-edge and expensive chemotherapies.

Does anyone else find it positively stunning to hear this type of cancer likened to living with a chronic disease like diabetes? How many women with any type of serious and potentially life-limiting diagnosis can say, "I don't expect my life to be significantly different"? Is she putting on a brave front for her children, her family, her husband's campaign, or is she speaking confidently and without artifice from a place of jaw-dropping but normative privilege and advantage? The truth is that I too have excellent health insurance and would likely have access to treatment for a similiar, if not identical diagnosis (although possibly not the same level of care). It is a reminder of my own privilege.

As much as I wish Elizabeth Edwards well--I think this must be politicized. How this country elects officials who create room in the budget for marriage and other "faith-based initiatives" but see no moral laxity in enormous disparities when it comes to access to health care, education, housing, etc, is beyond me. I'll be greatly disappointed if Mr. and Mrs. Edwards do not "take advantage" of this situation to raise these and other questions in their bid for the White House.

How to know when someone thinks you're Evil

They hold a cleansing ceremony to rid their space of your pernicious self.

Proof that Anyone Can Just Make Shit Up and Market It

Not that we needed any further proof, but I unwittingly came across this idea by someone even less likely than I to win a MacArthur Genius Grant. Don't miss the warning to sinners.

Happy Blog Against Sexism Day

Who knew? So yeah, I'm a'gin it.

first class struggle

I read Firestone's The Dialectic of Sex: The Case for Feminist Revolution when I was a freshman at Baylor University (truly a hotbed of radical feminism) and finished it not really understanding what I'd read, but nonetheless feeling intellectually superior to my peers more interested in sorority teas and identifying which males were more likely to become prominent Texas attorneys. Now, 25 years later all of it still sorta just pisses me off. I do not presently have time to give Firestone another go, but Twisty over at I Blame the Patriarchy is hosting an ongoing Firestone Theater. The discussion threads over there are sometimes hit and miss, but the host offers a provoking jumping-off place. Which is just GREAT for me--what with 5 papers due next week. Check it out.

Part-time postmodern

I am blessed with very smart friends who help elevate the level of discourse that is constantly running in my own head. As prompted by their recent posts, thinking about writing, reading and speaking as betrayal has been putting quite the drain on the electrical currents in my brain. Despite the likely non-existence of a meta-minerva-narrative (no matter what my mother says), I love the idea that with every word I write, read or utter I may be exfoliating my being. But what does it say that I still find myself wondering about Truth? Perhaps it says that my frontal cortex is still recovering from years of Sunday School indoctrination, but I should hope I'm beyond that by now. I once asked a reasonable theologian I know about postmodern hermeneutics, who laughed dismissively and responded that they are inherently contradictory terms. Funny how working with people who are processing what "end-of-life" means brings all this stuff to the fore. Is being a thoroughgoing postmodern a luxury?