Erin just recounted an interesting story: a girl she went to high school with contacted her via MySpace...and this girl is now a boy. Hmmm.

Leaving completely aside the issue of transgenderism, I started to think how bold it was of this person to contact Erin. Seems to me it might be awful hard to reach out to people you went to high school with and tell them you've changed genders. Not bumping into them in the grocery store and having to explain yourself, but actively reaching out and seeing if people accept you. Wow. Made me feel pretty silly to be scared of letting people in on my blog.

So thanks to Erin's friend for bashing me over the head with perspective. And best of luck to him as he tries to mesh his old life with his new one.

Posted by: Sarah at 12:38 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Leela: "Fry, this isn't TV. It's real life. Can't you tell the difference?"
Fry: "Sure. I just like TV better.

I'm always fascinated by our modern-day tales and legends, by the fictional characters we hold up as our inspiration for greatness. Sadly when I write about this, I often get insulted by people who think that I can't tell the difference between a TV character and a real person. But apparently a Serbian village is looking for inspiration in our modern-day heroes as well:

A Serbian village is hoping to channel some of Rocky BalboaÂ’s fighting spirit with a 10-foot-tall statue of the fictional boxer portrayed by actor Sylvester Stallone.
...
Zitiste has repeatedly suffered flooding and landslides, gaining a disaster-prone reputation. Fed up, the locals contemplated how to change that image and revive the village — one of the poorest in northern Serbia — and came up with the idea of a statue of the tenacious fictional fighter.

I think that's pretty cool. If we have to be a cultural hegemon, at least we're exporting Rocky.

Posted by: Sarah at 04:42 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I'm going to do something completely insane here and link to something at Daily Kos. Because I liked it. I suppose I liked it because I thought the telling made the Marine look classy and the lefty look like a drunk pseudo-intellectual, but that's neither here nor there. I too sing daily praises that I was born in Oklahoma instead of...anywhere else in the world. Fat and Happy and No One Trying to Blow Us Up

Posted by: Sarah at 01:47 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Folks, something I feel passionate about has come up, and a major fisking is in order. And someone named Monica needs a pimp slap.

In the swampy soup of hopefuls for the 2008 presidential election, there is a man with a funny name. (No, not that one.)

We're thinking of the one named Fred (Thompson).

Say it out loud. Do it. Fred. Fred. In the South, Fray-ud.

Fur-red-duh.

It has the tonal quality of something being dropped on the floor, something heavy and damp-ish.

Waterlogged paper towel.

Fred.

Ahem. Some of you may remember that I have a megacrush on every man on the planet named Fred. Yes, including this one. And the idea that we could have a Fred for president has indeed happily crossed my mind. So this Monica hooch better realize that she's walkin' on the flightin' side of me with this crappy-ass article.

London's Sunday Times last month interviewed a bevy of his ex-girlfriends, all of whom have drunk the Fred-Aid: "He's majestic," said country singer/Fredophile Lorrie Morgan. "Women love a soft place to lay and a strong pair of hands to hold us."

Fred?

Why? Is there something about the craggy actor we're not getting? Maybe he's ugly-sexy, like Mick Jagger?

Or maybe the name Fred is etymologically close to obviously sexy names like Dirk, Clint, James?

Grant Smith is an onomastician at Eastern Washington University in Cheney, who studies the branch of linguistics dedicated to proper names. He specializes in dissecting the monikers of political candidates and says he has a 65 percent success rate of predicting elections, based solely on name analysis. Not entirely convincing, but those odds would play in Vegas. "The name Fred is basic and homey," says Smith. "It should give people a reassuring image."

But is it, Dr. Smith, a sexy name?

Silence.

"I would not say that. The name Fred does not suggest blatant sexuality at all."

Speak for yourself, dude.

At the Fredquarters of the Fred Society in Palm Springs, Calif., "Head Fred" Fred Daniel has been defending his good name against charges of boringness and dolt-itude for 23 years. Daniel, 52, founded the society in 1984 by combing the Los Angeles phone book for Freds and sending out a 500-person mailing. There are 5,000 Freds in the organization now, but Daniel must fight for every member. "Unfortunately, Fred has fast fallen out of favor," he laments. From 1885 to 1896, it was the 15th-most-popular boy's baby name. But the last time Fred appeared in the top 1,000 was 2002.

Be still, my heart, there's a Fredquarters.

Fred.

We are trying to understand.

We are willing to admit that that some people find Fred Thompson, yes, sexy.

But we still cannot understand what that means.

What does it signify that we, as a country, are choosing to deem yummy a guy named Fred?

It signifies that you are a huge bitch for writing a 1000-word article making fun of a man for his name. His delicious, perfect name.

Seriously, this is journalism? This sounds like something my brother's basketball team would've come up with to rip on someone while playing X-box. How on earth did this ever get published? Maybe Monica's next article can be about how Giuliani will never be taken seriously because he has the same name as the little football player who could. Or how Mitt is something you use to take cakes out of the oven.

Good lord, journalists are lame. Lamer than any Fred I've ever met.

Posted by: Sarah at 02:02 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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