Digesting 1972

Do people still make time capsules? I remember it was all the rage at the turn of the century. In high school I even wrote a letter to my 30-year-old self, but since I remember most of it I doubt it will be a surprise if I locate it again in six and a half years (one brilliantly inspired line: "did you ever find a career you like and get to do everything you wanted to do? I hope so!!")

A few weeks ago, I found a time capsule of sorts in the most unexpected place - a torn cardboard box I passed on the sidewalk as I was running to catch the Muni. As I looked down I noticed it was filled with old magazines. Three and a half decades old to be precise. With ten seconds to spare, I shifted Women's Day to unearth a pile of ancient (in a magazine's lifespan) Reader's Digests from 1972. I grabbed three copies and shoved them into my bag before hopping on the Muni. It wasn't until I settled in and opened an issue that I realised just how valuable a find I had made.

It seems the world of 1972 was far more distant that I assumed. The younger generation (hippies) was continually mystifying, drugs were terrifying and dangerous, and so were "women libbers." Between advertisements from the Sugar Council ("Sugar. It isn't just good flavor; it's good food") and speculatory articles about where the country was headed ("[By 2000] to relieve urban congestion and air pollution, most cars for city travel will be small, low-speed vehicles powered by batteries, fuel cells or synthetic fuels") I found an article entitled "But Women Are the Favored Sex" by a certain Mrs. Elsieliese Thrope. It may be one of the most offensive and hilarious things I have ever encountered. From the get-go, you've got to admire that cartoon of a cavewoman Jane smiling contentedly whilst being dragged off by a scowling Tarzanical caveman. Mrs. Thrope certainly makes a watertight argument against Women's Lib. Some of my favorite quotes (sorry about the scan quality):

When Women's Lib first appeared on the horizon, I was amused. A bunch of disgruntled eccentrics with a phobia about dishpan hands, I figured.

It is she who decides whether it will be hot dogs or steak tonight... What man, on a job, can set his standards that way?

If I need to talk to another adult, I can always holler across the fence at my neighbor, call my aunt in Boston, or arrange for tea with a friend.

...And my personal favorite:
Back in the Stone Age when some lonely Cave Man found himself a suitable mate, he didn't ask her. He just pulled her home by her long tresses, caveman fashion. And I'll bet the poor helpless sex object was actually enjoying what was in store for her.



It seems Reader's Digest has always been filled with disaster stories, even in 1972. My co-worker and I reminisced once about reading the same story in an issue from the '90's where a couple of campers were mauled by a bear (in graphic slow-motion detail). I read it when I was ten and walked around shell-shocked for days. But besides the scare-tactics, these Reader's Digests represented a much more conservative, religious, sexist, and condescending tone than the issues I grew up on.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to buy some cold cream for these dishpan hands.

Hormonal Manipulation

This BBC story details how a recent study found that a snort of the hormone oxytocin increases trust in test subjects, "even after they were betrayed." You can read all the gory details yourself, but basically a nasal spray is being developed to help phobics -with the terrifying aspect of this development being what it could do in the wrong hands. Am I being a little too James Bond about this, or do you too picture a bald man stroking a cat and purring, "Yes, yes. Soon, my pet. Soon they will bow to our bidding. Even as we speak, the hormone is seeping into their brains, rendering the amygdala defenseless"?

This is your brain on drugs

Another aspect of this article that leaves me uneasy is that I recall learning in PSYCH 201 that oxytocin is the "cuddle chemical," that creates mother-child bonds or makes a girl crazy after she sleeps with a guy (or girl?). That's what I hear, anyway. It's a dangerous substance. The phrase in the article about it increasing trust after being betrayed really terrifies me as well, especially in regards to relationships. I don't like the idea that a substance can impair your judgement or change your behavior (I mean, besides crystal meth, but that's different, that's cool).

Now, if someone could just create an oxytocin inhibitor, then that'd be good news.

I Got More Records Than the KGB

Please draw your attention to the virtual jukebox to the right. I'm going to try to add some more songs later, but for now enjoy a brief selection of oldies and other songs I've had going through my head lately. Suggestions welcome.

Maybe the Sun Will Shine Today

I'm weak.

I wrote my last entry before I decided to quit facebook, and due to a combination of my mom's dismay and the fact that I won't be on the 'book all day, I've decided to come back. Besides, I really like writing these.

Life goes on. I continue writing medicore flap copy for Chronicle. At my other job, Brainwash customers are a never-ending source of amusement (yesterday a beret-wearing Woody Harlson look-alike offerred me a job chaufferring his limosine "because I like to smoke joints in the backseat"). I went to Queer Night last night and waltzed with a creepy guy to Backstreet Boys. I've been doing a lot of watercolor and collage, and trying to care about the fact that I'm getting fat by doing ballet in my room to Bollywood music.

I'm still not sure where I'll be two months from now. My temporary job finishes at the end of this month, and while I'll still be working at Brainwash, it's not enough to keep me here. Presently the options are hearing back from one of the multiple jobs I've applied to at Chronicle (doubtful), staying here and trying to find something else, moving home and saving some money, moving to New York, moving to Portland...money is the brick wall I keep running into. My attitude toward money has always been disinterested at best, but the last year has taught me how lack of it can really detract from your quality of life and limit you from what you really want.

(My title is from the Wilco song, "Either Way" --> listen to it)

It's Over!

Folks, let's just call this what it is.

I'm done.

I love you. Please keep in touch.

"I Started a Blog" by the Sprites

Stuff San Francisco People Like

In the tradition of the inexplicably successful blog Stuff White People Like (soon to be a book, if you can believe it. Chronicle was outbid on this project), I have crafted my own entry to make sense of my fellow denizens of The City By the Bay.

1. Pet Causes. If there's one thing that gets a San Franciscan in a tizzy it's an injustice that doesn't affect their life, the further away the better. In fact, the further the problem, the angrier it makes them. Harvesting soy crops in Micronesia is destroying the endangered gruva moth: make a sign! Kids in Kazjekhistan aren't being immunized against mumps: post agro messages on an online forum! Oh, and they also want their pot vending machines in more convenient locations.

2. Scarves. I've never seen so many scarves as I have in the last six months. Part neck-warmer, part statement that says "I'm cooler than you." It's important to wear rayon-blend scarves, not knitted. The ubiquitous keffiyeh, considered a symbol of Palestinian nationalism, is another must for any self-respecting hipster.

It's important to make this face at anyone not wearing a scarf.

3. The Giants. Apparently some sort of sports team.

4. Hating Gavin Newsom. Who wouldn't hate him? He's young, hot, successful, engaged, rich... What a dickweed.

My mayor is hotter than your mayor. P.S., that's not his fiancee.

5. Hedonism. I've never felt like such a prude as in this city. How could I have never been to a sex club (yes, that is exactly what it sounds like - go to a building and have group orgies. There are separate rooms depending on your fetish: S&M? Guys only? Girls only? Furries?) done drugs, or had a one-night stand? Geez, what are you living for?

You party animal

"But if You Go Putting Up Pictures of Chairman Mao..."

Some photos of the thwarted Olympic torch relay through San Francisco. Originally, the torch was supposed to cross the Golden Gate Bridge, but after protesters climbed the bridge and installed giant FREE TIBET banners across it in anticipation, the route was changed for security reasons. I took a lunch break on Wednesday and headed down to meet some people near 3rd and Market, where the torch was supposed to start its journey through the city.

Effing San Francisco and its pet causes. After dodging dozens of people thrusting clipboards with petitions in my face, asking me if I'm a registered California voter, I still had to make my way through the Darfur people, the alternative energy petitioners, and the anti-war contingent. And of course, thousands and thousands of Tibet picketers.

Policewoman stops to snap a photo with her camera phone

The Olympics and Darfur are inextricably (or is that "inexplicably"?) linked

This multitasker was simultaneously chatting on his iPhone, wearing a bike helmet (because people want to slap him upside the head?) and pants eight inches too short, waving a Tibetan flag, and talking smack to anyone who would listen.

After all that, they ended up changing the route at the last minute - apparently switching it up as they went. So hardly anyone got to see the torch, including press. A great prank on the city's part, especially considering the thousands and thousands of dollars this whole farce cost to execute.