Jay Peterson
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Pets: the last bastion of unsexualized affection.

1/29/2019

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An old redneck saying claims, "I don't need no man. If'n I want companionship and protection, I got a German shepherd and a pistol."
A while back, I noticed that the only nonsexualized form of public intimacy most Americans can show these days involves pets. Public displays of affection between ostensibly consenting adults in a modern setting draws the assumption from onlookers (and possibly from some of the participants) that such displays mean a sexual relationship is either present or imminent.
But unless you really bury the needle on the depravity meter, nobody sexualizes someone petting a dog.
Now look at the rise of both real and false service animals in public places. Are we looking at a pack of speaking-to-the-manager suburbanite shits who want their beasts at hand in public and don't give a fuck about training them?
Or are we seeing one flavor of a trend of people who are giving up with connecting to humanity because we've left no way to get close to someone else without the world assuming we're putting out to them?
Personally. I think it's both. I'm just not sure about the proportions.
Humanity is mind-boggling in its adaptability to new environments. And if a given environment doesn't provide for all needs, humans will find another way to see to those needs.
I'm not saying that bullshit claiming that a pet is an ESA or a service animal is a good idea. But between buying a vest and changing the perception of a culture with millions of people, I can see which is easier.
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Gillette and the meaning of words

1/16/2019

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when I first heard of the Gillette commercial, I thought it was the next step in advertising. Somewhere in the marketing department was a millennial that saw a consumer demographic, turned a brand-recognized but potentially problematic tagline and turned it on its head in a way that carried a lot of weight. Dunno if it's going to sell more razors (it might fall into the popular but no increased sales hole that the old spice guy fell into years ago), but it's certainly memorable.
And the overall message it carries is pretty awesome. Examples of good men (who have the time and inclination to step up) are fewer and farther between than we'd like. I spoke about the difficulties of parents yesterday, and that goes as well for coaches, teachers, martial arts instructors, and other mentor figures that do a lot in young people's lives. People who are vital in taking the phrase "boys will be boys" and making it not an excuse anymore.
I'd like to think "boys will be boys" would instead mean, "We call them boys because they're still learning to be men. They'll screw up. Let's be diligent in correcting said screwups and preventing future ones."
(Think about it. There's a reason that referring to a male as "boy" becomes seriously derogatory once that male is above a certain age and experience level).
aaand then it lost me with the bit about the guy not only trying to break up a bunch of teenagers, but dragging his own child into the fray with him.
That was where the ad crossed the line from admirable to bone fucking stupid.
Given the current state of America, that kind of intervention with the idea of "all I have to do is step up" is a good way to get yourself stabbed, sued, or jailed.
I'm not against intervening. But I'm against stupidly intervening. And that was seriously stupidly intervening.
Then we have the term "Toxic masculinity" in general.
If "toxic masculinity" was just used to identify and correctly treat the problem, I wouldn't have an issue.
But it's never just that. Not now, when being properly leftist is a religion and being woke is orthodoxy. Which is exactly what's happening now. Questions are heresy, and pointing out flaws is a blasphemy. Which means the new term transforms from an identity of a problem into a club of shame, to be swung against all heretics, blasphemers, innocent bystanders, and people who nodded off during the sermon. And all the good parishioners are quick to point them out, lest the club of shame be swung in their direction.
It happened to the word "racist."
It happened to the word "privilege."
It happened to the word "Nazi."
And you expect me to believe it's not happening to the words "toxic masculinity?"
Fool me once? shame on you.
Try to fool me four times? go fuck yourself, asshole.
Which is why it's going to lose effectiveness without solving the problem, the way all of the others did. Because it's not being used in the way that's actually effective. It's a hammer that's being used to threaten the fearful instead of build a table. And it's a fucking shame.
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Super Bowl Hotel rooms

1/16/2019

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Guys on the radio discussing Super Bowl hotel rooms in downtown ATL make me feel so much better about myself and what I do during Dragoncon...

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from atop Mount Centrist...

1/15/2019

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The CDC reported that the U.S. birth rate has fallen below the rate of replacement. Responses were predictable.
At least, responses of anyone below 50 and within spitting distance of middle class were predictable.
But beyond the immediate economic reasons, one I haven't seen pointed out is why I really admire my peers who are parents. (Full disclosure: don't have kids myself, but friends do. And these days I work with kids on a regular basis).
From what I've seen in the last, oh, 15 years? Becoming a parent in America these days means every fuckstick within earshot suddenly feels the need to voice their opinion. Like they made the mental leap from, "It takes a village," to, "I'm auntie/uncle to everyone wearing short pants within 100ft."
A chunk of 'em look like they have CPS on speed dial (and the less said about that festering rectal polyp of local bureaucracy, the better). And the Gods help your blood pressure if you don't have a retained lawyer on yours.
And that's without mentioning the circle of bullshit that are public schools. Admin playing to the local political power base and terrified of lawsuits. Teachers terrified of anything that draws admin's notice while doing the jobs of parent, nurse, counselor, coach, and maybe get some teaching done in there. Add in "those" parents out there, the ones blind to the fuckery perpetrated by their own spawn, but ready to bring down the might of the first lawyer they saw on a billboard at the slightest hint of anything less than the best bestowed upon said spawn.
You want to believe it would work if everyone wanted it to. But they don't, so it devolves back into "screw over others before they screw over you."
Add in that we've finally admitted that there's no guarantees of a future anymore. College, trade school, the military, STEM, humanities... they're all rolling dice to see if you can even try, then rolling to see if it will help you succeed or just leave you in the mud.
That's assuming we don't just set the place on fire any minute now the way France is.
Fuck. You're willingly being a parent these days, you're a fucking superhero.
Keep up the good work.
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Joined Instagram tonight.

1/6/2019

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Kept telling myself I wouldn't. Was just discussing with a colleague yesterday that gaining enough followers for casting to notice involves a combination of buying followers and documenting how your buttcheeks peek out from the bottom of your shorts. And I refuse to buy followers.
But another colleague asked nice when I was helping them with Facebook. And as a Xennial, I am bound by honor to lead the civilized elders to safety through the jungles of tech.
Grumbling all the way that I have better things to do with artisnal food than document it, like feeding it to my food, account made, permissions to know my location denied, permissions to access my photos denied, passive-aggressive note that I can't post without giving access, access grumblingly granted, and all of sodom and Gomorrah breaks loose.
Now, my pixelated mementos of close personal friends are kept under proverbial lock, key, and orders to destroy in the event of my death or capture.
But a greatest hits album of my commercial erotica collection is just sitting there among the rest of the galleries. Which Instagram in all its maddeningly helpful design chose to push to the front of the "would you like to share?" Line. While, remember, my colleague was right there. Directly in the line of fire while said gallery went off like a claymore packed with wobbly bits.
Rallying on with what dignity I can muster, I scroll down to a sedate picture of one of the cats. Pic selected. I scroll the filters in a futile effort to find one with word balloons to insert my radical centrist kink friendly gun nut propaganda. My efforts thwarted, I proceed to post it raw.
While my colleague attempts to replicate this, I notice a like pop up near immediately. My blood pressure spikes as I notice I already have 96 followers! What manner of buttfucking techno sorcery is this?! I ask myself. A moment passes before I realize the Facebook connection. The minions of the Zuckerbeast have raised my banner when my back was turned.
Thus is the saga of my entrance to Instagram. O will commence following as I feel like it. I still see no sense in documenting food and consider myself as having all the immediate aesthetic appeal of a lug wrench, so expect the cats to star until I can find my filters.
The saga continues...
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