Literally in the dumps
Jessica Jones is a new Netflix series based on the Marvel comic of the same name. It’s really good. I like it a lot. It doesn’t inspire in me the same kind of reverence it seems to inspire in a corner of the ‘net I’ll call “Jessica Jones twitter,” but I get why people dig it and are affected by it. In particular, I think Jessica Jones is great at doing one thing: Making us experience Jessica’s isolation.
This is the aspect of the show that really resonates with me. It was difficult for me to watch when she was actually rather physically isolated, prowling the streets at night and drinking alone; it was depressing as hell. But as the series progressed Jessica reconnected with her longtime best friend, hooked up with a handsome bartender, helped her neighbor (now friend) detox, and developed a rapport (albeit a tense one) with flawed-but-good cop, Simpson and “I never know what’s going on in her head” high-powered lawyer, Hogarth. So, hey, she can stop all that sulking and cut back on the booze now, right? Wrong. Here’s the show’s strong point: it shows you–in excruciating detail–how a support system will never work if there’s someone out there who can always circumvent it. It doesn’t matter how many friends or lovers Jessica has. Bad guy Kilgrave (a stalker, murderer and rapist) will always be in her head. Or he’ll be murdering people just outside her motley little circle of pals. Where’s the peace to be found there?
To me, this is the thing Jessica Jones does so adeptly. It shows how terrifying and soul-sucking it is be always be alone, even when you’re not alone.
In other news, here is my latest piece. I think it may be my best piece ever.
The other day my mother in law messaged me saying she’d had some turkey breast braised in apple cider; she said it was tender and delicious. Knowing I was not going to be cooking for an army I thought that sounded like something I might want to try. Here’s how I made my Thanksgiving Cider-Braised Turkey Breast:
- 1 split turkey breast (mine was 2.34 pounds)
- 2 shallots, diced
- 2-3 cups good quality apple cider (mine was the kind with apple bits floating around in it)
- 1 tbsp. chopped fresh sage (dried would certainly work, too–just use less)
- Generously salt and pepper the breast. Heat a tablespoon or two of oil in a big dutch oven.
- When it’s rippling add the breast and brown the skin. Remove the breast to a plate.
- Sauté the shallots and sage in the drippings and oil ’til shallots are slightly softened, adding a bit of salt and pepper. Add the cider.
- Put the breast in the braising liquid, skin side down.
- Put the cover on the dutch oven and put in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes.
- Remove cover and turn the breast skin side up. Continue cooking for another 30 minutes.
- Remove breast to a plate and let rest for a few minutes. Pour braising liquid over the breast and slice to serve.
It couldn’t be simpler. And it was, without a doubt, some of the most tender, flavorful turkey I’ve ever had.
NOTE: This fed 4 people (one who filled up on ham) and there were leftovers. For more than 4 people, to be safe I would double this recipe.
A few weeks ago I learned that my music library was pathetic. A good portion of the music in it is 5, 10, even 20 years old. I used to be fairly good about trying to keep at least somewhat current and trying to search out new artists, but when my son was born I suddenly had a lot less time to geek out to music. Well, he’s in pre-k now, giving me at least a little time to think about rebuilding my library. But, geez, I’m having a tough time doing it. So could you help Uncle Ebenezer and me and out and recommend a song or two that you’re currently loving (no more because then that just gets overwhelming) for us to check out? I’m anxious to fall in love again.
…aaaaaand, finally…a word on MIX TAPES. You may find this hard to believe, but girls make them too!
HULK LISTEN TO A WIDE VARIETY OF COOL MUSIC!
I’m at a loss for words. Seriously, I toyed with the idea of only commenting on this article with emoticons because…WOW.
Jimmy Iovine is among the figureheads of Apple’s new streaming music service. This morning, he appeared on CBS This Morning to discuss the platform and its marketing campaign geared toward women.
Apple recruited Mary J. Blige, Kerry Washington, and Taraji P. Henson for a series of TV commercials, wherein the three women equate Apple Music’s playlist curation as like having a “boyfriend that makes you a mixtape.”
OK, just imagine me making a very angry face.
Asked his thinking behind the commercials, Iovine told CBS, “So I always knew that women find it very difficult at times – some women – to find music. And this helps makes it easier with playlists, curated by real people. They’re not made by algorithms alone – they’re made by algorithms but with a human touch.”
He added, “I just thought of a problem: girls are sitting around talking about boys. Or complaining about boys! They need music for that, right? It’s hard to find the right music. Not everyone… knows a DJ.”
No, but seriously, the idea that music–the making of it, the appreciation of it, the ability to curate it is the solely the province of men is something that makes me want Hulk out on people.
Today was International Men’s Day. I had some things to say about it.
Kurt Schlichter is such a gross weirdo.
On a Florida golf course, the secure cell phone of the retired Marine everyone called “The Wildman” rang, ruining his putt. The Wildman was a legend for his aggression, hence his nickname.
And his love for the game of golf, the most macho game there is involving riding around in tiny carts and having other people carry your balls.
At an airfield outside Irbil, the brave Kurds beheld a nearly endless series of C-17 cargo planes flying in with the weapons and ammunition Obama refused to supply. The Iraqi prime minister called the President to complain that he had never given permission for any of this; the President informed the Iraqi leader that America wasn’t asking.
“You will attack aggressively in order to destroy all ISIS forces in Iraq and Syria. You will kill all ISIS fighters who do not surrender. Your priority is the destruction of ISIS forces. The safety of civilians is secondary.”
A strategy this fleshed-out surely couldn’t fail.
The Americans published daily body counts. This horrified liberals, but delighted the American people,
who, apparently, are not Americans or even people!
When the war ended after two months, the President’s popularity was 80% and the final body count was 26,763 ISIS fighters dead. The Islamic State was just a terrible memory. Iran, North Korea, Russia and China all saw and understood that they would need to govern themselves accordingly in the face of a post-Obama America. And it would be years before any terrorist group dared again threaten the United States.
And then Kurt Schlicter used his G.I. Joe doll to give his Lando Calrissian action figure a roundhouse kick to the face.
I’m always surprised by how little snobbery I encounter when I tell people I am a digital artist who focuses on photo manipulation. I don’t know if this is because the genre’s largely been accepted as a legitimate art form or because people are just genuinely ignorant about it so don’t know enough to adopt a snobby attitude. I suspect it’s a little from Column A and little from Column B. That being said, I thought it might finally be time to educate people a little about what I do.
What is photo manipulation? Generally, it’s when you take elements from different photos and combine to create a new art piece. Ideally, these elements will include purchased stock photography or stock that’s been offered gratis. (It’s considered in pretty bad form to use stock that is not purchased or freely given in photo manipulation , especially if you intend to sell your works.) It’s also not unusual for manipulators to use tubes (photographic elements that have already been cut out) or 3-D renders. And many manipulators also digitally paint on top of their works. So take all these elements, and you have the basics of what photo manipulation is.
Were you recently thinking to yourself “I can’t live on dinosaur erotica/My Little Pony mashup fanfics alone. I need bspencer to tell me what to watch on television.” Well, then you clicked on the right post, because I am going tell you watch on television!
- So here’s the thing: when Jon Stewart left The Daily Show, I flounced away hard, declaring I’d never DVR the show again. I was really sore the powers that be hadn’t chosen a woman for hosting duties and I was…not impressed…with some of the shitty jokes Trevor Noah had made before he got the gig. Folks, I did not stick that flounce. I recently tuned back in and found–to my dismay–that Noah is funny and charming and–unlike Jon Stewart–actually knows how to conduct an interview. He also mugs less for the camera, which is nice. Still think someone like Aisha Tyler or Aziz Ansari woulda been the optimal choice for hosting duties, but the truth is The Daily Show seems fresher and funnier than ever these days and I’m loving all the new correspondents.
- I have some shocking news for all of you: I’m not a historian. So I cannot even a tiny bit attest the accuracy of its segments, but Drunk History is laugh-out-loud funny. It could just be that I’m a perpetually-12-year-old woman with a troubling lack of historical perspective, but watching comedians cuss and burp their way through these (actually really important and interesting) American stories makes my heart happy.
- Brooklyn 99 is the only sitcom I bother watching these days. (Cute as Blackish is—Tracee Ellis Ross is an extraordinarily gifted comedienne–it’s just not appointment television for me.) The cast is to die for: Andy Samberg, Andre Braugher, Chelsea Peretti, Joe Lo Trulio and Terry Crews? Yespleaseandthankyew. It’s fast-paced, fast-talking, good-natured, and hilarious, with an occasional where-the-hell-did-that-come-from? weirdness that’s really appealing. (Fer instance, in the last episode Peralta and Amy go to a mattress store and jump on mattresses while “Get Low” plays. Why do I find things like this so amusing?) Totally appointment television.
- Not gonna lie: The Nightly Show got off to an awkward start. Luckily for us, it found its footing, which is a good thing, because Larry Wilmore is a national treasure. I’m enjoying the news segments more and more and find correspondents Mike Yard, Rory Albanese, Holly Walker, and Grace Parra really winning. The show has one soft underbelly, however, and it’s the panel segment. When Larry has awesome guests on, this segment is often the highlight of the episode. But, man, all it takes is one rubbish guest to make the panel painful to watch. I have nightmares about one of the show’s contributors being a douche to Bill Nye (who was talking about really cool stuff). Man, that was painful to watch. That aside, I still never miss the show and you shouldn’t either.
MAJOR UPDATE: I FUCKING FORGOT LAST MAN ON EARTH!!! IT’S BRILLIANT!!!
Ladies, bad news: our reign of terror is over. No longer will we able to use our vaginas to control men’s brains. Wait, what?
Inside every single woman are hormones called copulins that are used to drug a man and control his mind.
That’s right, he knows about the coprolites! I mean the cooperligs…the coppertones…the corpuscles…fuck it, something completely made up that starts with a “c.”
The vagina produces a thick fluid known as copulin that has actual mind control effects on a male’s brain. If a man is exposed to a woman’s copulins, over time she will be able to number one: change, remove, or insert memories in a man’s mind.
The science is sound, obviously, but if I may interject some anecdotal evidence: I’ve been trying to turn men into biddable zombies with my copulates for years now and it hasn’t worked yet. I even tried to use my clopitunes to turn men into vampires. Nuttin’. This guy has some interesting ideas, I just think more research into clipulas is needed before we can conclude that we enslave men with our butter-scented vaginas. Wait, what?
[S]imply by being around women they are releasing these hormones into the air. Apparently they smell like butter which is the smell I notice when I’m in any place where I notice girls walking around in their mid to late teenage years.
Here’s where I think the theory goes off the rails. Dude, that’s not butter you’re smelling, it’s Philosophy‘s most romantic fragrance, Fifty Dollar Thimble-Full of Popcorn.
I wish I had posted this entry sooner because it ties in so well with Erik’s earlier entry on OKC, but better late than never.
Recently I had the pleasure of visiting the Oklahoma Museum of Art with my father. We were both really impressed with the whole experience (it’s an attractive museum with a knowledgeable, helpful, friendly staff), but let’s be honest: the jewel in OMA’s crown is the third floor Chihuly exhibit, which is nothing less than breathtaking. You walk through dark halls and rooms…and the only thing illuminating the spaces is Chihuly’s exquisitely-lit art. Each installation is more grand than the next. It really is a sight to behold.
OMA boasts the second largest collection of Chihuly art and is in possession of his largest piece.
Approximation of what the Fake Rape Honeypot Operation being foiled by whistleblowers that totally aren’t making shit up would look like
It’s a plan so stupid and insane it just has to work.
“Yesterday, Eric S. Raymond, a software developer and open-source software advocate, published an explosive allegation on his blog: a recently disbanded group called the Ada Initiative, which advertises itself as helping make tech more welcoming for women, had been attempting to entrap men by using “honey pots” to seduce them and then accuse them of rape. “The MO was to get alone with the target, and then immediately after cry ‘attempted sexual assault,”
YES. Now women are using their heads. Instead of using men as networking and mentoring sources, just get one alone, accuse him of rape and then set up a Patreon account to collect all those sweet fake rape report dabloons*. IT’S SO SIMPLE. I don’t know why women in tech didn’t think of it sooner.
“And the Ada Initiative shut down earlier this year. Nevertheless, this report is consistent with reports of SJW [social-justice-warrior, a derogatory term used frequently in anti-feminist writing] dezinformatsiya tactics from elsewhere and I think it would be safest to assume that they are being replicated by other women-in-tech groups.”
“Safest” is one word, certainly.
*Fake rape report money always comes in the form of dabloons.