Well, yeah, kind of. As I noted earlier in this morning's Dirt Bag, Kardashian and her sisters have earned over one million dollars over the past few months, thanks mostly to Khloe's wedding and Kourtney's pregnancy. Khloe and Kourtney have been particularly visible over the past few months, which makes me laugh, as I secretly think they're on a neverending mission to upstage Kim, who is clearly the Marcia Brady of the fam.

The Kardashians, despite what you may think of them based on their various reality shows, aren't idiots when it comes to working the system: Khloe's wedding has been breathlessly followed by celebrity magazines who will jump on anything remotely wedding related, no matter who is involved, and they're willing to shill out the money to get their hands on the prized pictures of Khloe's ring, or her rehearsal dinner, or her floral arrangement, or what have you. It helps that she's marrying LA Lakers star Lamar Odom, but seriously, my toothbrush could be getting married to my shoe, and as long as they were once featured on a reality show, they'd probably get a front page post on USWeekly's site. Don't believe me? The top headline on People magazine's site right this moment is an exclusive about the wedding of American Idol runner up Justin Guarini. Stop the presses!

It's irritating to me that dumb celebrity weddings are still the money makers they were a few years ago, that even in a recession people are willing to pay for shots of a D-list reality star cutting a cake and showing off her enormous ring. It's also irritating to me that Kardashian spoke out against Prop 8 but seemingly has no issues with making her wedding the biggest deal ever.

On the other hand, it's also irritating to me that I've been programmed to yell "Fake!" whenever something like this comes around (or that I care at all) , and that despite Kardashian and Odom's claims that they are happy and in love, I see it all as a dumb stunt that, if it goes according to the D-List celebrity playbook, will just end up another high profile celebrity divorce that's played out for cash, much like Page Six and TMZ are reporting Kardashian's wedding will be. Maybe I'm wrong and they'll live happily ever after. But at a time when the country is dealing with a recession and when people are denied the right to marry, I'm getting a little sick of being invited to the extravagant and doomed weddings of reality stars. I know we all need to escape into the absurd once in a while, but I think it may be time to start rejecting these invitations.

It's Not Too Late To Turn Over Prop 8!!! [Khloe Kardashian]
American Idol's Justin Guarini Marches Down The Aisle [People]
No Keeping Up With Their $$ [PageSix]
Lamar Wants Prenup, But There's A Problem [TMZ]

In an article titled "Top 10 Signs You're Too Good For Her," writer Jason Moore lets all the bros know when it's time to let a girlfriend go:

No.10 - You're always dumbing down conversations around her
And it's not just her — it's her entire social universe. Her friends, her family and her coworkers all seem to have an extremely limited vocabulary, one that contains more four-letter expletives than a U.S. Army boot camp. If your cat can match her wit, it's one of the signs you're too good for her.

Ok, look. Nobody is saying that you need to (or should) stay with someone who doesn't stimulate you intellectually, but being smarter than someone doesn't necessarily make you better than they are. This isn't a case of someone not being "good enough" for you; it's just a case of someone not being the right match. I'm sure there's some oh-so-lucky lady out there who can match wits and pretentiousness with you, bro. Trust.

No.9 - She f*cks like a porn star

Sure, we all have those fantasies, but if your woman is taking you into uncharted territory that has serious repercussions for personal safety, there's a good chance it's a sign you're too good for her. No limits or boundaries in the intimate sphere means serious problems with self-respect and control in general. Sure the sex will be mind-blowing, but you'll never know where she's been or even how she learned her maneuvers, which can only mean one thing…

And you know what that "one thing" is, ladies! You're a total slut! Being skilled in bed, confident in one's sexuality and enjoying mixing things up a bit obviously means that you're a big ol' whore with a self-esteem problem, and Captain 2Good4U can't handle it. You are just too good at sex, and that means you're a terrible, terrible person. It couldn't possibly mean that your dumbass boyfriend isn't good enough to keep up with you, could it? Naw, that couldn't be. Men who are good in bed are studs, and women who are good in bed are filthy tramps who aren't worth the Axe bodyspray, right brah?

No.8 - None of your friends like her

Your friends don't like her and they seem to have independently verified, double-blind proof, that she's awful. You've spent a lot of time cultivating your social circle to serve as just this type of guard when you're in completely over your head, so trust your safety net. If she can't make simple conversation with your friends, it's a sign you're too good for her.

This is somewhat legit, in that often times, when people don't get along with their partner's social circle, there are problems. But using "bros before hos" as a means to gauge whether or not someone is "good enough" for you is a fairly juvenile solution. And if you need your friends to tell you that your girlfriend is "awful," you probably need to work on your own relationship skills.

No.7 - You're always encouraging her
If, on a regular basis, you find yourself encouraging your girlfriend to go out and really experience life outside the couch or mall, you're in all likelihood too good for her. There are certain people for whom ambition or enthusiasm for the future are just plain anathema. You're not going to be her catalyst and all you're doing now is wasting valuable energy and focus that you should be spending on your own life.

Again, this is more about a mismatch than being "too good" for someone. And not for nothing, but it might be a drag to have a boyfriend who finds it such a bitch to be supportive and understanding, which may account for her general lack of enthusiasm.

No.6 - She can't pay for anything

When it comes time to pick up the check for a dinner, a movie or just about anything else the two of you are undertaking she is nowhere to be found. There are two types of women for whom this is a problem: The first is just oblivious to the fact that she should actually pitch into the relationship. The second is just without the ability and just doesn't seem to have any income. Life's too short to waste time on either of them.

Ugh, poor people, am I right? It's not that she's cheap—she's broke, bro! That is like, the worst, man. I mean, why would anyone waste their time on a genuinely good person if said person can't even afford shots at T.J. McThursdaytown? You can't be seen riding around in your pimped out Toyota Corolla, blasting the latest Asher Roth, with some broke-ass chick in the passenger seat. It's a total no-go, bro. No go fo' sho.

No.5 - She's amazed by what you take for granted

At a certain point in life, certain realities set in and some things are just taken for granted. After college, a paycheck certainly falls into this category. If your girlfriend is dumbstruck by your ability to garner income, you're staring into the abyss of someone who cannot hold a job. This may be a warning sign of future problems.

Other things that she's awestruck by include paying bills, utilities or credit cards on a monthly basis. These should all let you know you're too good for her.

Again, we go back to the idea that women are dumb, immature, and lacking basic life skills. You should kick her to the curb, bro. Because if you don't, she might end up broke, and well, we know what a buzzkill that is, right?

No.4 - She has poor hygiene

If you've noticed on numerous occasions that there is a certain unpleasant odor emanating from your betrothed, it may be time to move on. Some people are merely untidy while others endanger your health. You can try mentioning in passing that there seems to be something amiss, but by and large, you're going to be facing a recurring and uphill battle if you want her to change.

First of all, "betrothed" means that she's already your fiance. She may be stank, but you already asked her to marry you, even though you find her disgusting, so it looks like you're the one with crap manners.

No.3 - She is devoid of natural curiosity

The universe is a strange and mysterious place. Every day you come across phenomena that nearly cry out for further explanation. At least you thought so, until you met your current girlfriend. If you've been together for a while and you've never heard her mention travel or a book she has read, you're in trouble. Conversations based upon first-hand experience from your day are both powerfully limiting and dull.

Have you noticed that every "tip" seems to revolve around the fact that some women just can't keep up with this dude's intellectually superior rock and roll lifestyle? At this point I'm just concerned about him. He seems to have issues getting over the dumb, broke, poorly smelling one who got away.

No.2 - She gets into trouble with the law

There is a time when authority figures are challenged and boundaries are defined. It's called adolescence. It's when your juvenile record can be sealed and expunged. If she's still shoplifting or finding herself on the business side of a DUI conviction, that's just reckless and is endangering your future. It shows that she hasn't developed a sense of what is right or wrong, nor does she have any respect for the possessions of others.

Is it me, or is the language here really creepy? Sure, he's talking about breaking the law, but the disdain he has for women who seemingly don't "know their place" is fairly evident, and ties in with the "she's too good in bed" tip. I'm not saying that we should all start dating criminals, but the way this guy talks about women who take control or break rules, be they laws or sexual taboos, as disrespectful and wrong, is quite telling.

No.1 - Her best asset is her looks

Relationships are a growing concern. You're supposed to find other qualities that endear her to you beyond the initial physical attraction. If you haven't found anything like that and in fact have found many qualities that the good looks are covering up for, then you're too good for her. You need to move on and find someone else. If you don't, you're selling yourself short. Strike out in a new direction and find someone who is both physically attractive as well as your equal or better in the other 98% of life.

She's too pretty, which means you're way too good for her. Obviously!

While there are some decent arguments to be made here, namely that relationships need to be based on more than looks, that couples should enjoy spending time together, and that money troubles often pull couples apart, the way this writer approaches these concepts is all wrong. His sense of superiority, aside from being irritating, also shows a self-centered approach to dating (and to life, really): it seems as though no one will ever be good enough for this dude, and when women are too good at something, he feels they need to be knocked down a peg. Perhaps this dude should just come right out and say it: it's not that women aren't "good enough" for him, it's just that's he's too in love with himself to admit that anyone else has any redeeming qualities whatsoever. But don't worry, dude. You'll always have your bros. And bromance, they say, is the greatest love of all.

Top 10: Signs You're Too Good For Her [AskMen]

The study, published in the CSIRO journal Sexual Health examined the reports of sexual satisfaction from 36 couples who had undergone counseling sessions and 35 who had not. They found that premarital counseling raises the number of women who report having a "problem-free" sex life, but lowers the number of men.

Of the women, 81% who attended the sessions said they had a "problem-free sex life" while only 77% of the non-counseled ladies said the same. The disparity is greater for the men: 71% of the men who went with counseling said they had perfect, but 64% who had counseling made that claim. While the study does not offer any possible explanations why men reported better sex without counseling, we have one idea: Maybe they just didn't know. It seems possible that, prior to counseling, some of the men could have been unaware of their partner's dissatisfaction, thus leading them to assume they were problem-free.

Whatever the cause of this disparity, researchers still advise couples to undergo premarital counseling:

"A recommendation to encourage engaged couples to attend premarital sexual counselling is made based on the findings," the research found.

"It is thought that an intervention plan ... will help nurses guide recently-married couples to greater sexual satisfaction."

Men More Likely To Have 'Problem-Free Sex Without Premarital Counseling [News.com.au]

As is typically the case when it comes to dumb Men's Health lists, this particular article was written by a woman. I'm guessing that this is all part of a magazine exchange program that allows the douchiest men on earth to give their love advice in magazines like Cosmopolitan: "You send over your most stereotypical bullshit, and we'll send over ours!" It's a match made in generalization heaven. Let's take a look at a few of the romantic "moves" recommended to sweep a gal off her feet:

6. Grasp her hand when a scantily dressed, beautiful woman walks by.

Oh goodness yes! Because she needs to be protected from those skanky Death Eaters who will surely ruin your relationship with a sassy glance or lack of pants!

16. Undress her and put her to bed when she falls asleep in the car.

Oh, this isn't creepy at all. I know when I fall asleep, I love waking up without my clothes on, in bed, not knowing how I got there. Does this move come with a roofie nightcap, or are we saving that romance for Valentine's Day?

28. Give her jewelry.

Buy her shit! She'll be yours in no time. Women are so easy, bro!

26. Hug her when she gets jealous. Hug her hard.

Yes, suffocate her with the hug of judgment. That will teach her to get jealous.

40. Kiss her hand in front of your most die-hard bachelor buddies.

Please don't do this. Not every woman just stepped out of She's All That. Please keep your Cinderella fantasies to yourself. You're only going to embarrass yourself, and us, if you pull this "look at what an obvious romantic gentleman" showmanship in front of your friends.

32. In the middle of a conversation, tell her you love her.

That'll shut her up! What could she possibly have to say about health care reform? Just tell her you love her mid-sentence and make her swooooooon.

5. Put your arm around her when you introduce her to your friends and family.

You know, to let them know that you own her now.

7. Call her when you're feeling sad.

Mmm, nothing says "romance" like a 45 minute conversation with your crying boyfriend. Unless you mean "swoon" as in "pass out with intolerable sadness," I think we can leave this one off of the romance checklist.

19. When she's feeling insecure, stare into her eyes and tell her there is no one in the world who could be as right for you as she is.

Because as long as she's good enough for a man, it doesn't matter if she's good enough for herself. Someone should base a magazine around this concept! Oh, wait.

41 Ways To Make A Woman Swoon [Men's Health]

Dear Aretha & Susie,

I've been happily with a guy for two years. We have great, wonderful, passionate sex- but I never orgasm. Well, occasionally small ones. He doesn't know this. He thinks I have multiples and he's happy with the moaning and screaming. I'm happy with what I have. We have long sessions, they're very pleasurable, and I end up weak in the knees afterwards.

I use the metaphor that climaxing is like finally arriving at a cake shop down the street. Yeah, it's great to get there- and see a triple layer staring back at you. But if there's a carnival along the way to the cake shop, it ends up pale and unsatisfying by comparison.

I enjoy it so much more during the sessions when I DON'T climax and just hover in that nice feeling before an orgasm. Even when I'm going at it solo, climaxing is a hinderance.

I'm guilty for not telling him all this. I know it would make him feel bad, like he isn't doing a good job. He would feel like a lesser lover because he can't make me cum. I want to be able to tell him, because this is the only thing I've withheld from him or lied about. But I don't think he'll believe me if I tell him that orgasms suck and he makes me much happier without them. I don't want to undermine the relationship.

—In Love With Foreplay

Aretha: I swear. Again with the "we have great, wonderful, passionate sex!" right in the first sentence. Why is it that the people who write to us with problems always have the best sex?

Susie: Because they're romantic and hopeful. And so are we. The hopeless and cynical are not reading or writing.

Aretha: Well, my first reaction was: She's fucked. Once you've had your first fake orgasm there's no going back. She's been fucking this guy for 2 YEARS! That's a lot of fake orgasms.

If she tells him all those moaning, screaming orgasms didn't really happen, their love-life is going to SUCK afterward. He WILL feel bad.

Ms. Foreplay, I'm not sure know why you feel guilty about this, after years of silence, but I say keep it to yourself. You want to stay with this guy and still have weak-in-the-knees sessions? Say nothing. It sounds like you are having a great time in bed and whatever your bf is doing is working for you.

Susie: Something about this doesn't add up.

I want to know more about orgasms you search for when you masturbate. Do you AVOID climaxing when you're by yourself? Have you had other lovers that brought you more intense pleasure?

Orgasm is simply a release of sexual energy. We all love being on "the edge;" it's the icing on everyone's cake-but you can only sustain it for so long. The volcano has to blow. The contractions bring you down, the blood flow subsides, and you enter the technical phase called "resolution." There is a relief that is sometimes sad, but always sweet.

Let me give you a visual: look at the illustrations - (page 50 is where I want you to start!— then go back and read everything)- of what orgasm does, anatomically, in A New View of a Woman's Body.

My speculation is that you are NOT at plateau; you are enjoying the early stages of excitement with your boyfriend- which are pleasurable. You've struggled, unhappily, to reach a higher level of intensity. You get thwarted as you enter the plateau phase and wish you had stayed in the shallow end. It's a nasty, cranky place.

You think you're going to be happy this way for the rest of your life? No. You've been rationalizing and trying to "make do."

I wish you would experience the deep end of pleasure, the whole orgasmic spectrum- if you haven't already- on your own. Then think about what it would take to share it with your lover.

Aretha: You could start having sex with him and telling him afterward that you didn't cum but it still felt great. Tell him about the cake shop or whatever and make it sound positive and sexy- he may come around to the idea.

This would be an excellent time to try NEW things in bed- and I'm thinking of a few ways cake could be incorporated, too.

Don't get into "what if you told him everything?" - even though it would be "honest." It's a lot of hassle over the idea that sex is not good without an orgasm. I say skip it. Mom, you may disagree…

Susie: No, I agree with you… he won't buy it- and he'd be right. If he gets educated about female orgasm, he'll never buy it. It sounds like a two year grudge. He'll wonder, "Why now?"

Maybe that's the unspoken problem here. What's changing inside you? Are you having second thoughts about other things?

Aretha: Ummm… and yeah! Your boyfriend sounds great. "Long sessions"? If he dumps you over the no-orgasm thing, give me his number!

Susie: That is so sisterly of you.

• • • • •

Dear Aretha & Susie,

I'm in a one-year-long exclusive relationship with a guy I like. We're friendly, funny, goofy, intimate, all that good stuff- and the sex is pretty good too.

We both want to sleep with other people occasionally, and don't really know what to do about it. He keeps suggesting an open relationship. We live together and I have a feeling that I would find it emotionally messy, even though his take is that it would only be occasional one-night stands.

I'm uneasy because there's part of me that's envious of his ability to separate sex from emotions (or so he says).

My abilities in compartmentalizing are a little limited, but I'm thinking it might be worth it to explore and find out. I don't think it's impossible. I feel "mentally" open but my stomach tells me otherwise, due to some lingering jealousy and an inherent and learned sense of loyalty.

Also, I live in a country that isn't exactly free-love-friendly so I can't expect acceptance from my peer group. Cheating is common here but I'm not interested in deception and jealousy. I don't have any positive role models when it comes to an open relationship.

Should I pursue this? He says he doesn't want to push the idea and will back off entirely if I say I'm not comfortable with it. He's loyal, honest, and patient, so the decision is up to me. Where should I begin?

Yours truly,

—Wants to Open Up

Aretha: Well! This cracked me up because all I could think was, "My mom could tell you A LOT more about this than I can!"- lol.

Susie: Yeah, har-de-har-har.

Aretha: Thinking about what happened with you and Dad made me want to caution this girl that picking who you open your relationship with is super-duper important. Stay away from needy stalker people who want more than you can give them.

Susie: In my defense… in all the years I've been with your dad (21)- all non-monogamous- I can only think of two (and in retrospect, mercifully brief) times that we went through some real grief. I don't blame it on being "open" - it's just the hard things relationships go through at times, be they social, platonic, or battles with your own relatives.

You never knew about all the times everything worked out copacetic or drama-free, because part of our "open relationship" ethos was protecting our family life: Kids come first, privacy is a big deal, and discretion is definitely the better part of valor.

As to Miss Wanna-Be here, I'd say that the ideal time to find out about how you feel about open relationships is definitely before you have children.

Aretha: But I don't think she's quite there yet- she's still deciding whether she wants to do it.

Susie: There are ways to get your feet wet. You could go to a play party together, and either watch, play, or both. Connect with other experienced lovers, or pros, for that matter. Avoid the ring-seeking singles and unhappily married. You could plan a "when-I'm-out-town" adventure, where what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Talk about all the details, like where it happens, what happens the day after, what birth control or STD stuff you use. There is no such thing as "disconnecting" your emotions, thank goodness. Would it please you on to hear a little bit about it, a lot, nothing at all? If one of you is on a date, what does the other one do? Discuss how you feel about friends versus acquaintances, boys vs. girls, etc.

Each one of you reserves the right to change your mind. You already understand the most important thing: Open relationships are about Not Cheating. Not deceiving. Not patronizing your partner by keeping a secret.

Aretha: I say, go for it. You've been together for a year, he's a loyal and honest guy, and you both want to sleep with other people; that's a great base. If you have the hots for some awesome guy and want to hook up with him- in an open relationship, that can happen! And it's NOT CHEATING. If you two try it for a month or whatever and you don't like it, then make sure he knows right away!

On the other hand… If your tummy is telling you that you're not up for it, then maybe you aren't ready. There is nothing wrong with that. Maybe just having the IDEA of sleeping with other people works for you better.

Susie: Good point. There are plenty of couples who get stoked on the fantasy of cheating, cuckolding, and "play" jealousy. You can go wild without bringing a single other live person into it.

Do you like to read your way into things? I do. Here's a reading list that'll get you thinking about the possibilities: The Ethical Slut, Tristan Taormino's Opening Up, and a short story I wrote for Mommy's Little Girl, called "The Best She Ever Had."

BTW.... I assume the UNfriendly-free-love locale you're describing is: Fresno.

While meeting up with your friends to talk about relationships is nothing new, and it's kind of cool that Cami took lemons and made MySpace-ade, everything else about the Board of Love — and its writeup by Rebecca Meiser — is pretty depressing. There's its inspiration — Cami saw ad exec Donny Deutsch ell a woman on Good Morning America that "If you really want to get married, you need to treat your love life like your professional life," meaning she "needed a group of friends to hold her accountable for her dating decisions and to advise her on all romantic matters." The advice part seems like what normal friends do, and the "holding accountable" part seems like a nice way of saying "berating."

Though the board "tried to look for positives" in its meetings at the bar Panini's, Cami's friends Jenny Chalk and Carrie Hooks also say things like, "Immediately, I knew he was a jerk," and "I think Cami does have good taste deep down, but she's easily distracted by other things." They told her she was "only bothering to talk to nonquality guys," and assigned her the awkward-sounding task of hanging around for half an hour in the cracker aisle of a local supermarket, in order to meet "guys with disposable incomes." On Halloween, they dressed up in fishnets and pencil skirts and slipped business cards under the windshield wipers of expensive cars. While there's nothing wrong with friends giving you a little help with your dating life, the tenor of the Board's criticism and the mercenary nature of their activities makes the whole thing sound like, well, a job.

Then there are Meiser's subtle hints that she actually finds the Board depressing, not because of their Halloween antics but because the members are 28 and single. She writes,

To outsiders, Cami's choice of advisers might seem less than ideal. Neither Cami, Carrie nor Jenny have ever been in a relationship lasting more than six months. And each board member has her own issues.

Jenny, a fun-loving office manager and budding fiction writer, had been called out for her pickiness, rejecting guys because they were "boring" or "not my type." Carrie, despite dating a lot, never seemed to find the right guy. Ever.

And of a guest speaker's presentation, "Why You Marry Before You're 30: A Book Report," Meiser says,

Apparently, the speaker had read some study that claimed single women over 30 were more likely to die alone, surrounded by 40 cats than to marry. "Clearly, the speaker did not consider his demographic when he chose that topic," 28-year-old Jenny says. Afterward, the board took an impromptu vote, unanimously deciding to disregard the speaker's message because he obviously had no idea what he was talking about. Everyone felt much better after that.

It's kind of hard to tell if the subtext here — "but we're all still kinda worried about becoming cat ladies, aren't we?" — is coming from Meiser or the Board itself, but whatever the case, the article makes being a single woman sound like a disease, and the Board of Love sound like very bad doctors. Adding an extra little zing of delusion are the sidebars Cleveland Magazine has added. One describes the $1,000 "finder's fee" a board guest speaker is offering to the person who introduces her to her future husband. Another gives this advice:

Look around you. People generally choose to date others who are on the same social, professional and attractiveness "rung" as themselves. But how often does that relationship crash and burn?

Now think of the advantages of dating someone beneath you on the social ladder. These guys, knowing how lucky they are to get you, will work extra hard to keep your interest. They will spend more money on you, lavish you with more attention and be that much more grateful for your presence than any guy in the same social rung ever would.

Convinced?

Um, no? First of all, just because you perceive someone as "beneath you" doesn't mean he does, or will treat you accordingly. Second, what if he finds out you're dating him as part of a campaign to "lower your standards"? Third, the whole premise that board meetings, assignments, and guest speakers will make someone better at a process that includes an enormous amount of luck, trial, and error is pretty ridiculous. I guess it's supposed to be fun. It sounds about as fun as a Cathy comic strip, and about as smart.

Image via Cleveland Magazine.

Love By Committee [Cleveland Magazine]

Inspired by the success of Twilight, the publisher says,"these books specifically focus on teen protagonists, which is not something Harlequin has done a whole lot of." Well, no. While it makes sense that two of the most resilient portions of the publishing industry - romance and YA - should join forces into a supergenre, traditional romance tends to depend on an idea of happily-ever-after, whereas teen romances, typically, don't outlast Thanksgiving break.

Of course, in a case like Twilight's, the characters are special - hell, the hero's technically an old man in a 17-year-old body -which makes it easier to buy their love beating the odds. And Harlequin Teen is clearly not too worried about being derivative: of the 20 titles planned for 2010, apparently a sizable portion are Sci-Fi and "paranormal" romance. It's the "contemporaries" we're curious about.

An industry pro observes that "The teen-romance readers of today are the adult-romance readers of tomorrow. Courting them when they are younger is probably a good thing." But this seems to ignore two things. One: teen girls read bodice-rippers and, two: a lot of Twilight's readership is adult. I'd guess Harlequin is well aware of this too: and as long as grown-ups prefer reading about nubile adolescent foreplay - and won't admit it - this seems like a potential win.

Harlequin Takes Aim At Teen Readers With New Imprint [USA Today]

There is, perhaps, no one more important to the teen comedy genre than John Hughes, who, after producing a string of classic films in the 1980s, has now faded into the background, choosing to live a slightly reclusive life away from the film world and the adoration of the fans who grew up with his movies. Hughes' films, while loved by many, are not without their flaws: notably racist stereotypes, which are explored in Gene Luen Yang's brilliant graphic novel American Born Chinese.

And what of the boyfriends of the John Hughes world? For many of us, they were straight up Tiger Beat material. But how do they hold up now? Let's break it down, shall we?

• Jake Ryan: Sixteen Candles
• Pros:Handsome, wants "a serious girlfriend, somebody I can love who's gonna love me back," thinks it's kind of cool, the way you're always looking at him.
• Cons:Wasn't interested in Samantha Baker until he saw a quiz she answered in which she admitted she'd sleep with him, pretty much handed his drunk girlfriend over to Farmer Ted as long as "she gets home. You can't leave her in a parking lot somewhere." Oh, and he handed his drunk girlfriend over for a pair of Samantha's underwear.
• Final Analysis: Jake Ryan is easy on the eyes and seems to really want to be loved. But his interest in Samantha seems to spring from the fact that she's pretty obsessively in love with him already. That being said, I probably wouldn't turn him down if he showed up in his car outside of my sister's wedding to whisk me away. She's getting married in May, 2010, Jake. Just sayin'.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: B-
• 
  
  
  
• Blaine McDonnagh: Pretty In Pink
• Pros: Sweet, charming, clearly wants to break way from his insulated elitist world, willing to embarrass himself at the record store with a lame purchase just to talk to Andie.
• Cons:Still has trouble breaking free of his class, his privilege is often showing, insults Andie's outfit, easily influenced by rich jackass Steff, "Blaine? That's a major appliance, not a name!", asks Andie to prom and then totally blows her off. What about prom, Blaine?! What about prom?!?
• Final Analysis: Blaine is a bit of a tool. He makes a big dramatic "I always believed in you, you just never believed in me" speech at the end of the movie, which is total bullshit, because Andie wasn't the one to hide the relationship, break off the prom date, or give up due to pressure from her friends. Blaine was the one without the faith. The original ending of the film had Andie ending up with her best friend, Duckie Dale. That would have been better for everyone, as evidenced by Andie and Blaine's makeup kiss at the end of the film, which is probably the most awkward kiss in screen history.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: C-
• 
  
  
  
• Duckie Dale: Pretty In Pink
• Pros: Excellent dancer, good taste in music, snappy dresser, sweet, quirky, extremely loyal, willing to stand up to anyone on Andie's behalf.
• Cons: Needy, calls about 200 times per day, a bit stalkerish, extremely emo, filthy shoes, can go from sweet to annoying in 2.5 seconds, is already in "The Friend Zone."
• Final Analysis: I actually had a Duckie Dale in high school, and he is still a very dear friend of mine. Duckie could go either way here: he could be a really great boyfriend, or just a really great boy friend. Either way, you'd want him in your corner.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: B+
• 
  
  
  
• John Bender:The Breakfast Club
• Pros: Rebellious, handsome in a kind of badass way, hard exterior covers emotional interior, could hook you up with illegal substances if that's your kind of thing.
• Cons: Serious temper issues, family problems, can be quite cruel, sexist, and obnoxious, might not actually get out of high school, due to detention issues, until he's about 29 or so.
• Final Analysis: The only reason to date John Bender would be the reason John Bender himself gives: "Remember how you said your parents use you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be OUTSTANDING in that capacity?"
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade:D
• 
  
  
  
• Ferris Bueller:Ferris Bueller's Day Off
• Pros: Clearly a genius, could basically get you out of everything, would be a blast to hang out with, loved by nearly everyone, could take you to many fine dining establishments with his friend Cameron, thanks to their Abe Froman scheme.
• Cons: Could get exhausting trying to keep up with Ferris, might not be able to trust such an accomplished pathological liar, you'd have to spend a lot of time with Cameron, who isn't always sunshine and lollipops.
• Final Analysis:: Ferris Bueller is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking him up.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: A
• 
  
  
  
• Farmer Ted: Sixteen Candles
• Pros: Really likes to dance, will drive you home if you've had too much to drink, respects a girl who will help out a geek, doesn't spill the details of your night together to his nerdy friends, thinks a girl in a hat is "just so Vogue," admits that he's "King of the Dipshits," which at least shows some level of self-awareness.
• Cons:Will ask to borrow your underpants for 10 minutes and then proceed to show them to the entire geek population of the school, the headgear shown above, may pass gas on the dance floor, goes by "Farmer Ted."
• Final Analysis: He's young and he's learning. Once he gets past his awkward headgear-King-of-the-Dipshits phase, he might actually be a decent boyfriend. Just don't take him dancing. It's better for everyone that way.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: B
• 
  
  
  
• Keith Nelson: Some Kind Of Wonderful
• Pros: Artistic, thoughtful, romantic, wants Amanda Jones not to feel trapped by her economic status, which he shares, liked by a variety of people in his high school, including the toughest bullies and his best friend, a female drummer named Watts.
• Cons: Oblivious that Watts loves him, only seems to "love" Amanda because she's beautiful, spends his entire college education fund on a pair of diamond earrings, feeds into classist pressures by organizing a fancy date (also financed by his college fund) in order to impress a girl.
• Final Analysis: Here's another example of a tacked on Hughes romance: Watts and Keith end up together, as he suddenly realizes he's loved her all along, but for most of the film he's concerned with appearances, notably Amanda's and his own ability to appear upper class and able to impress her.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: C
• 
  
  
  
• Andrew Clark: The Breakfast Club
• Pros: Athletic, likes to eat, likes dancing while high, will open up to the right girl, even if she makes snow scenes with her own dandruff.
• Cons: Daddy issues, tapes other boys' buns together, falls for the ol' "You got a makeover, now we can date," BS.
• Final Analysis: Andrew Clark is a bit hard to read. It will be interesting to see who he becomes once he's not the high school jock anymore. Could be a great boyfriend, but seems to fall too easily to peer pressure.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: C+
• 
  
  
  
• Steff: Pretty In Pink
• Pros: Gorgeous, attractive in that asshole Chuck Bass kind of way, can wear a white suit to high school like nobody else.
• Cons:Elitist, classist, doesn't handle rejection well, treats his girlfriend Betty like "trash," clearly hates himself, as pointed out by Blaine, says things like, "I wouldn't be too jazzed if I were you."
• Final Analysis:Steff is the guy you make out with, but don't actually date, which, I'm pretty sure, he's kind of "jazzed" about.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: C-
• 
  
  
  
• Brian Johnson:The Breakfast Club
• Pros: Smart, excellent writer, very sweet, member of the Math Club and the Physics Club.
• Cons:Filled with anxiety, perfectionist, awkward at times, embarrassed about his lack of sexual experience, likes to stick pens up his nose.
• Final Analysis: This kid was way ahead of his time. Though he played the nerd in this film, this character laid down the template for every character Michael Cera has played since, and Michael Cera happens to be one of the reigning dreamboats of the teen comedy world. Sweet geeks rule the world now; Brian was just 20 years too early.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: A-
• 
  
• Beethoven:Beethoven
• Pros:Likes to cuddle, loyal, sleeps a lot, enjoys eating, clearly has a taste for classical music, when he's around, hilarity will ensue.
• Cons:Slobber problem, destructive, sheds a lot, is actually a dog.
• Final Analysis: He's a DOG, you guys.
• John Hughes Boyfriend Grade: F
• John Hughes Hilarious Family Pet With A Destructive Streak But A Heart Of Gold Grade:A++

Lauren Jamison sets up her case against feminism by acknowledging the good things about feminism: more women in the workplace, female CEOs, yada yada. She then goes onto accuse feminism of ruining dating:

Feminism has grown and has been applauded by women everywhere, but when it comes to love and the act of dating is it possible that feminism has had an adverse effect on the age old game?

Men are no longer paying offering to shell out for both dinner and a movie, so something must be wrong, right? And since feminism has taught women to see men as pigs, it seems almost logical to blame the women's movement for the recent loss of romance. But before we convict feminism for murdering romance, we want you to consider a few other suspects.


Patrick Bateman. He's tall, dark, and handsome. Just the kind of guy romance might go for, and suave, too.


Professor Snape. Spoiler Alert! Snape killed Dumbledore. Is it possible that he avada kedavra-ed romance into oblivion as well?


Video. We all know what happened to the radio star. And who really knows when video might strike again?


Miss Scarlet. As we know, women can be killers nowadays too. Thank feminism for that. Perhaps it was in the library, with the candlestick.


What about Norman Bates? He clearly has serious issues with women.


O.J. Simpson. Issues with rage, problems with women, sounds like a deadly cocktail.


John Wilkes Booth. Because when you're writing an idiotic, reactionary trend piece, anything is possible, right?


Did Feminism Kill Romance? [ChickSpeak]

Anyway, Barthes wrote a book about how lame and maudlin and gross, if not altogether bonerkilling, the words with which people have been taught to express the desire to fuck one another tend to be, and it would be hard to disagree with him if in the intervening decades the average romantic utterance had not seemed to shrink commensurately with the amount of space on a silicon wafer necessary to store it. Could Barthes have known this? Could he have imagined the era in which the subtle and highly-targeted accumulation of photogenic and/or accomplished Facebook friends would become a legitimate courtship strategy? (No seriously, some guy I met at a bar the other night told me his friend had read all about it in a self-help book about "how to make your ex jealous." Reader, I Facebook-friended them both.)

In any case, it is times like ours that can drive the most hardened unsentimental romance skeptics among us to greet a sudden break in the routine — a separation, a breakup, a vacation, an impossible situation with an Argentinean journalist, whatever — as a call to express one's sincerest wishes and most embarrassingly heartfelt feelings. Like, at this point that can mean anything from "Why are we thus divided having kissed? Why are we yet two bodies and not one?" to "yo babe i am sorry i didnt share more of the coke on saturday, i miss you."

Which brings me to Melanie's moment of solitude, a semester abroad in France wherefrom she composed a classic, safe-distance, tender communique to her old hookup-buddy James, even going through the trouble of sending it through the mail so that it might reach him in a mode unhaunted by business school projects and porn. Now, I am not sure if it is more of a female thing to compose such an uncharacteristic missive in the absence of a once-ambivalently loved one, but I do know that one could compile a book alone of the totally amazing responses Crap Email recipients have received to what they assumed to be harmless — and indeed, selfless! — expressions of fondness. (Because once you get a dude alone with a laptop and his (self-professed lack of) feelings, whoa.)

Only James, however bothered to consult the DSM, quote every single movie on his dormroom wall…and forward it immediately to their mutual friend Leila, with the message "look at how big my balls are." Uh, yeah dude.

I guess this has been a long time coming. I don't really know how to start, so I'm just gonna take it one frame at a time as I experienced it, give you some insight into my thought processes. It's 12:23 AM right now. We'll see how long this takes...

So I got back to Brooklyn Sunday night from PA, and as I was unpacking all my shit, my roommate waltzed in and gave me a handful of mail. "While you were gone...just make sure you pay the bills, don't want them to cut off the electric on us." "O.K. thanks, just leave me cash tomorrow." "No doubt." I go ahead and turn on my computer, check my email, check facebook (because why the fuck not, right?) and then log onto the Chase website, pay the Keyspan and CableVision bills, see what new movies are out, check my schedule and what time I have to wake up the next day for class, and so on and so forth. Then I look through the rest of the stack of mail, separate the scientology letters addressed to Wainwright (real name Jameson, I think I already explained him), some more addressed to a jamestine Rivera, and some more addressed to an Ismael Figueroa (I have no idea who they are. Neighbors I guess). Then I come to a handwritten envelope, addressed to me at my address here, no return address. Curious as to what it is, I open it...wow! A handwritten letter! Nobody sends those anymore; the only people who send those are in the military. And the first words on it: Hey James, it's Melanie.

I had no idea what to expect. I read it once. I read it again. I read it a third time. By the end of the third time through, and I've got to be completely honest, it had me kind of fucked up. You said some real shit in there, and I just wasn't ready for it. Here's exactly what you said: "I want you to know that I'm glad I got to know you, and it's not only because I think you're handsome and have a damn charming smile, but also because you have a lot of character and a great and very distinct personality...obviously, you probably know that I do like you a lot, and if you didn't, wow...it's something you should know." The tone of the whole letter, and that bit in particular, just kind of had me on a roller-coaster of I don't know what. I'd say it was emotion, but there was more to it than emotion. It all just kind of hit me at once, and it was your words that triggered it.

There's something you should know about me. No, I'm not gay (I know you were expecting me to say I turned, but you would be WRONG on that one, haha). But no, in all seriousness, whenever I feel emotions, I never know if they are real because I don't stop thinking. I'm way too analytical for my own good, to the point where it's borderline sociopathic. Yes, I'm a sociopath. Not in the sense that I'd steal an old lady's life savings and think nothing of it, or torture little animals, but in the sense that I don't experience emotion like other people. I separate myself. I separate myself and analyze my emotions as I feel them, so the question that begs to answer, am I really feeling anything if I am analyzing what I would be, in theory, feeling? And when I look back at what I was feeling, I realize I was actually feeling nothing. I realize I was completely unaffected by whatever had happened because I had just removed myself from reality and thought it all out. 100% mind, 0% heart, the definition of a sociopath.

I have felt true genuine emotion twice in my life that I can remember, and they both had to do with death. The first I can remember is when my aunt died, and that was when I was about 10. After the funeral it just kind of hit me on the car ride home, and a few tears actually streamed down from my eyes. The second time came the night after I had a dream in which my father died. It wasn't a ridiculous dream like the ones I normally have and that you're used to hearing from me, with midgets and dinosaurs and zombies and shit like that, but a regular dream that really turned out to be more of a nightmare. My dad had been in a car crash, and he died in the hospital while I was in the room with him overnight. Nobody else was there, just the two of us. I woke up with my nerves kind of rattled, got a glass of milk, and went back to sleep with no problem. It didn't hit me until the next day when I was listening to the radio in my room and this song came on by Luther Vandross, "Dance With My Father." It made me cry. I locked myself in my room for an hour until I could calm down and regain my composure. It hurt. That was three years ago. I haven't listened to the song since, and I've never told anyone about this, not my brothers, not my mother, not my grandparents, not my friends...nobody. This is what I'm talking about when I speak of emotion.

So maybe it makes more sense to say that I am in some sense a sociopath rather than saying I am heartless. I do have a heart...I just don't know what it feels like to use it. You like Al Pacino; just think Michael Corleone. There's a reason why The Godfather Part II is my favorite movie. It's because I can relate to the main character in ways I imagine many other people cannot. Think about it: nobody says their favorite movie is The Godfather Part II because they can relate to Michael Corleone.

So what does that say about us? What does it say about me? When I read your letter it was so real. It had such a personal touch that could never be conveyed in an email or a facebook message, or in a phone conversation or even in person. There's something about a handwritten letter, the fact that it is writing, that it is done via a stream of consciousness, but with the precision of a mind that knows where it's going. Like I said before, I have some sociopath tendencies. Call me an asshole for it, call me a jerkoff for it; it's probably true. What I took from your letter, when you said "I'm glad I got to know you," it was almost as if you were throwing in the reins, chalking it all up as an experience, a fling that was a good time, something fleeting, maybe a little bit of fantasy, of a romance that could only exist in a couple months of college, and then live only as a memory in the future.

What hurts me is the fact that I knew exactly what was happening. Why had I never committed to anything? Why hadn't I taken any step? Maybe it's the fear of being in a "relationship" that keeps me from doing that, the fear that I could maybe dedicate 15% of my time to a girl when I could be dedicating 100% of my time to myself, to my career, towards reaching my goals. It's self-centered, I know. It's selfish. I'm an asshole for being that way, but I can't help it. I don't think it's a matter of consciously not wanting to commit to anyone; it's this subconscious masochistic desire. I would rather succeed in my movies and live as a tragic character in my own story, and in that, yes, I loved, but I never committed myself to love, not to any person. Maybe it's that I'd rather live with the thought that I've committed myself to a love for what I do, to my movies, to my passion, and I'd only been accountable to myself. I know I will adversely affect anyone who I come into contact with, to anyone who I start something with, but when it comes down to it, it's the freedom to simply be and do what I want that drives me. That, and this self imposed tragedy that I put myself through. I'm ridiculous, I really am just a character; I live in a movie.

I think maybe it's because I've been hurt before. I've had my share of rejections. I was angered and embittered by them. Some people would complain that they have been rejected because they are not good enough, and whoever rejected them is the asshole for not seeing them despite their shortcomings. But to be rejected because you're too good? Because you're going somewhere and don't need a person like me holding you back? There's no fighting that. Not in a town where everyone aspires to have a family with three kids, two cars, a mortgage, etc. When you're sitting across from someone and telling them your plans, telling them your dreams, sharing and opening up to them because you trust that they know you, that they like you for you, and for them to just abandon it all because you're just too good, too damn promising, that hurts because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that. I'm sorry I'm going to NYU, I'm sorry you think I'm a genius, I'm sorry I'm not going to fucking trade school like your asshole ex-boyfriend who's going nowhere outside a thirty mile radius of where he was born, I'm sorry you're content with your little plot in this world, I'm sorry I have big dreams. You wonder where the ego comes from...the truth is I don't have a huge ego. I have confidence, but that doesn't mean I have a huge ego. Sure I joke and laugh about it, make it all into this circus sideshow. But what else am I supposed to do? It's the result of a mentality that I've come to abhor, and I use it because it makes me seem sociable. It makes me feel like I can tolerate people, and more importantly, tolerate myself, my own insecurities.

So what was I thinking all this time. I was thinking about you. I was thinking about Patrycja. I was thinking about Bel. I was thinking about Sydney. I was thinking about Sonia. I was thinking about Samantha. I was thinking about Ashley. I was thinking about Lexi. I was thinking about this girl who sits across from me in Marketing Research but I've never had it in me to go and talk to her because what if it's awkward or I don't give a fuck, I'm tired and want to go home, or for whatever goddamn reason I never talked to her. I was thinking about all the girls I've ever had an interest in, fantasizing about what it would be like to be as close to them as I was to you, but wasn't for one reason or another, or that it would never work, or that it's just a shame things didn't work out between us because we really were perfect for each other. I was thinking about when I first stopped you on the street outside of Proof, when I said, "Hey, you work in the equipment room at Coles!" and your awkward friend said, "Stop being awkward!" and I was like, "You're being awkward, I'm saying hi to someone I recognize!" I was thinking about when I should go in for the kiss. I was thinking about when I was trying to watch The Godfather and you just wanted to make out. I was thinking about how fun it was to throw chicken bones across the street over taxis, and how fun it was to experience the cinematic achievement of Almost Heroes, and how when the last time I saw you we were in that Spanish restaurant and we didn't really speak much at all but we still managed to say everything and how that meant something, and it was nice. And the truth is that I miss you. I miss hanging out. I miss having a close friend around. I miss that we can't bullshit online about absolutely nothing for hours on end because of the time difference. I miss complaining to my best friend Patrycja about how I'm tired and I'm not getting any work done because I'm hanging out with melanie when I should be doing my homework. There's a lot that's empty right now, and it's feeling even emptier with every word that makes it onto this screen.

So in short, I really don't know what I want to say. I've ranted quite a bit, told you some things that I've never told anyone before…talk about putting my balls on the table, heh. This hasn't been easy for me, but this all needs some closure. I guess what I'm trying to say is this: I never wanted a relationship. If I really wanted one, I would have done something about it because that's just how things are. Peter Boyle's character pretty much said it in Taxi Driver:

Look at it this way: a man takes a job, you know? And that job, I mean, like that becomes what he is. You know, like, you do a thing and that's what you are. Like I've been a cabbie for thirteen years. Ten years at night. I still don't own my own cab. You know why? Because I don't want to. That must be what I want, to be on the night shift driving somebody else's cab. You understand? I mean, you get a job, you become the job. One guy lives in Brooklyn. One guy lives in Sutton Place. You got a lawyer. Another guy's a doctor. Another guy dies. Another guy gets well. People are born, you know? I envy you, your youth. Go on, get laid, get drunk. Do anything. You got no choice, anyway. I mean, we're all fucked. More or less, you know?

So I guess to kind of decompose that into something relevant, we had our good times. We had our fling. I think you already know that…hell, you said it yourself. That's not to say we won't again, who knows. I'm trying to look at it like an open-ended TV show. Who knows what's going to happen? I sure as hell don't…indecisive, remember? You had better have fun in France. Kick some ass for me, make me proud. Don't turn into too much of an asshole…

I hope I did this whole thing justice. I tried not to be too poetic…tried to keep it real. If it got a little saucy at a couple points, I'm a movie person, what did you expect? Of course I need to have the emotion and theatrics and whatnot. I'm a Spielberg guy, what can I say. Be cool…

Luv ya
~James
3:09

The easiest thing to dismiss about the matchmaker herself, 47-year-old and notably unmarried Patti Stanger, is her emphasis on a purely mercenary view of coupling. In addition to her show, she's written a book called Be Your Own Matchmaker, "aimed at women who hope to find love offscreen" (does it even count then?). The book calls wealthy suitors "buyers" in a way that Gould suggests isn't even really metaphorical. And the show itself, with its homogeneous beauty standards, its superficial and capricious screening process, and its creepy, brothel-like "mixers," encourages relationships "founded on the idea that a man's job is to make money and a woman's job is to be one of the possessions he buys with it." Ick, right?

More existentially upsetting is what Gould thinks Millionaire Matchmaker says about American ideas of love and marriage. She writes,

Patti [...] is convinced that there are biologically determined laws that govern why women and men are attracted to one another, and if you know these laws you can exploit them to your advantage whether you're a man or a woman. That idea is what Patti sells-not, as it turns out, "LOVE." But the inarticulable problem for the show is that when you reduce people to their basest caveman impulses it becomes hard to then shunt marriage back into the equation. No evolutionary biologist will ever tell you that humans have evolved to mate for life. Lately some of them will tell you that humans have evolved to pair-bond for four-year increments (about as long as it takes to get a child up and running), which seems about right. This information is not particularly hard to come by. But a weird thing about the show, and about American culture in general, is that we are so eager to hear and believe scientific and pseudoscientific explanations of why people "fall in love," but then we cover our ears and hum so that we don't hear the end of the sentence, which is about why people fall out.

Of course, some people do offer explanations for why we fall out of love, but these people are mostly idiots. Plenty of self-help books will tell you that a man tires of a woman because she can't make a decent brisket, has fuchsia sheets, or lets him see her removing body hair — or because she makes the mistake of trying to be friends with him. But even the smartest-sounding of these ideas don't actually explain why most relationships end, and they may even be more insidious than the ridiculous ones, because at least thinking people are unlikely to explain their love lives based on sheet color.

Scientific explanations for how relationships work, like the four-year thing (I've also heard three), seem more compelling than the pop-psych canards of self-help books, but they don't do a particularly good job either. Anything based purely on our supposed drive to perpetuate our genes at all costs ignores the influence of culture, which in the case of love is almost certainly huge (for instance, why are overweight women more likely to worry that their partners are dissatisfied? Could it be because culture is telling them they're a bad catch?). It also ignores the human drives for companionship and social interaction, just as strong as if not stronger than the drive for procreation. Trotting out evolutionary biology as evidence for why monogamy doesn't "work" is pretty simplistic.

The truth is, nothing "works." Lifelong monogamy means you might get tired of your partner, a series of four-year relationships means you (and your kids, if you have them) have to go through a breakup every four years. No model of human romantic relationships can reliably insulate anyone from pain. But Gould is right — the promise of Millionaire Matchmaker, and of much American pop wisdom about love, is that there exists for all people a relationship "out there" that will solve all their problems. In the face of the non-panacea nature of most relationships, Stanger uses exceptionalism. Though she presents marriage as the be-all and end-all to women on her show, she's not sure if she herself want to get married. Gould writes, "maybe we all believe that there are rules, and also that those rules don't apply to us."

Maybe. Reading about Stanger's "myriad weirdnesses" reinforced the firmest conviction I have about love and relationships — that no one really knows shit about them. It's depressing — no one can really tell you what to do. But it's also comforting — you don't have to listen to anyone else. Certainly not the Millionaire Matchmaker.

Qualify Your Buyer [n+1]

Even worse, a few summers ago, when I discovered Booksfree, I was able to quietly indulge my obsession with comparing and contrasting books like never before. As such, I've read books aimed at men and books aimed at women, and while most books aimed at men seek to boost male self-esteem, books aim at women tend to tear it down. I began to wonder - is there a life hack for dating? Is there one common equation that would stand up across all dating books which would led to true love? While I did find a formula, it wasn't about dating - it was how to sell dating books using gender stereotypes: generally speaking, most of them convey three things:



You Don't Have a Man Because You're Fat and Ugly

The terms fat and ugly seem to be used as synonyms in these books, reinforcing the idea that big cannot be beautiful. With the exception of He's Just Not That Into You (which should have been subtitled: We're Going to Repeat This Until You're Hypnotized), most of these books begin by informing us that we aren't good enough as we are. But don't worry! They have a cure.

Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider of the All the Rules are the first up to bat. They let you know from the jump that before you find a man, you need to work on you. While the idea of self-improvement sounds good in theory, it becomes clear that they really mean they want us to get a makeover. Asking questions like "Men like women who wear fashionable, sexy clothes in bright colors. Why not please them?" presents the theme for many a guide - men like shiny and pretty. So if we can't catch a man, it's because we aren't fashionable/sexy/cute enough. Other ways to make sure you look your best? They recommend wearing lipstick while jogging.

Patti Stanger of Bravo's Millionaire Matchmaker gets in on the action in her book Becoming Your Own Matchmaker: Eight Steps to Attracting Your Perfect Mate. She takes the cease and desist fatness edict farther, running with:

"Jenna is a perfect example of a woman mired in bitterness. She's about twenty pounds overweight and refuses to change her eating habits. "Most men are pigs, because they only focus on the physical. I'm looking for an enlightened guy who will love me for me and doesn't care about what kind of shape I'm in. Until I find him, the rest can go to hell," she says. Guess what? She's never going to find him. He doesn't exist. And even if he did, he would be thrown off by her me-against-the-world attitude."

Stanger continues:

"With men, it's all about the packaging – one look is all it takes for them to decide if you're a keeper or if you should be tossed back. This might be crude, but they're measuring your "fuckability factor." […] No matter how beautiful you are on the inside, if the outside doesn't reflect it, you're going to spend the rest of your days alone." (p. 51)

Men are shallow fuckers. Deal with it ladies! The right answer here is NOT to find a guy that loves you for who you are, but to raise your "fuckability factor" to attract the ones who will dump you if you gain five pounds. Nice!

However, unlike the women of the Rules, Stanger suggests there is hope for us poor fatties (which, in dating guide parlance means anyone with any visible fat whatsoever):

"I'd suggest moving to another city where the numbers are still in your favor, and where they're more forgiving of physical imperfection.. A woman who is fifteen pounds overweight can throw on the sweats, put on some blush, and she'll be considered ravishing in Chicago. She'll have a date every night in Minneapolis or Seattle, but she'll sit home alone for months in LA."

Fat girls, flee to other locales, where the men are less picky. I'm surprised they didn't bring up Alaska as a sure thing. She also spends a few moments on the virtures of shapewear, implying that if you can't make it, fake it. Ladies, this is a war, and Spanx is our camo. Use it until those lipglossed jogging sessions pay off.

You Don't Have a Man Because You Want a Career

Many books also admonish us for daring to go to work - we have the nerve to be confident and accomplished, and men are not going for that, not one little bit. Did we really think men would like a woman who can pay for her own things? Pssh...ournaïveté is showing . Rachel Greenwald, author of Why He Didn't Call You Back: 1,000 Guys Reveal What They Really Thought About You After Your Date sums up the issue in one line:

"I call these Boss Ladies part of 'The Cinderella Generation': they broke the glass ceiling but broke their glass slipper along with it."

Damn. That will teach us to wear glass shoes instead of splurging on the Jimmy Choos, like any good chick-lit novel will instruct. Greenwald continues:

"As women have risen up the corporate ladder, they have adopted many traditionally male characteristics to succeed [...]One man told me that most women he meets today would rather he 'admire their accomplishments rather than their butts.' Welcome to Dating 101. If you'd take the professional respect over lust, you might have just lost that second date."

The men she highlights have such ridiculous preferences it almost appears to be comedy:

"Owen, a thirty-two-year-old management consultant from Charlotte, NC, recalled asking a woman for her number and she handed him a business card. He assumed it meant she wasn't interested in anything personal, so he later tossed the card in his desk drawer and didn't ask her out. Though he did say one day he might call to use her services (she's a Realtor). He said it seemed "more feminine" when a woman wrote her number on a napkin or a piece of scrap paper in "girly handwriting" and even cuter when she reached for his cell phone and typed it in. That's when he knew the connection was personal, not professional."

A business card isn't good enough anymore – we need to take it back to middle school and hit 'em with our best cursive.

Greenwald concludes the chapter with this gem:

"Andy, a thirty-six-year-old stockbroker from Dallas, TX, told me about one woman he dated: "She was a career woman, but I'm looking for a woman who just happens to have a career."

Interestingly enough, all the books I read aimed at men never asked them to choose between a woman and a thriving career. It was assumed they would have both.

You Don't Have a Man Because You Look/Act Like a Man

Another truism peddled by these books is that the men you want are looking for a certain type of woman, someone that you become after learning to suppress your other instincts. Greenwald divides her book into (stereo)types of women that men can't stand, and number one on the list is "The Boss Lady:"

"The term "boss" here reflects men's attitudes that certain women seem argumentative, competitive, controlling, not feminine, too independent, not nurturing, or some combination of the above. In other words, some women give off a masculine vibe."

The too independent part is a bit galling, but makes sense. According to most of these guys, women who appear to together and too competent (not bitchy, though most of these guides deal with that topic as well) activate some kind of ball-shrinking reaction in the average man. With this being the case, the way to mitigate men's insecurity is to act as stereotypically feminine as possible. Greenwald notes:

"Perhaps, not surprisingly, most men are still old-fashioned in feeling a positive initial response to feminine clothing. I'm not suggesting that women wear a hoop skirt and carry a parasol, but the reality is that we're dealing with quick, instinctual reactions – think cavemen!"

There's no provision for women who don't want to date a caveman. Trust me, I checked. However, there is advice on how to win this caveman:

"Pull a June Cleaver" - "Play the part with flair: wear a cute apron, select a girly cocktail to serve (think Cosmopolitan versus whiskey on the rocks), maybe bake a pie. If you don't know how to do any of this (like me), enlist a friend to help you (your date doesn't have to see your accomplice in this caper)."

So what happens when he realizes you don't/can't/won't cook and you haven't used that apron since the second date? Isn't that what people complain about in relationships, that their partner behaves differently from when they met?

The Rules is a bit more direct with what we need to do to make a man happy:

"When you're with a man you like, be quiet and mysterious, act ladylike, cross your legs and smile. Don't talk so much."

Shh....women are to be seen and not heard.

Patti Stanger provides this jewel of advice for us future little women:

She who touches money gives off masculine energy, so you can't physically touch cash before his eyes or whip out the plastic to pay the check.

Avoiding anything with a whiff of masculinity appears to be part of the game, and nothing marks us as masculine more than hair. Hair seemed to be of particular interest, because it is apparently a FACT (in caps) that women are not cute with short hair. To hear them tell it, no man in the history of humankind has ever found a woman with short hair attractive.

The Rules tuts:

"Don't aspire to the unisex look. Buy feminine looking clothes to wear on the weekends as well as the work week. Remember, you're dressing for men, not other women, so always strive to look feminine." [...] "Men prefer long hair […] The point is we're girls! We don't want to look like boys."

Because, ewww! Boys are icky and boys like girls. Patti Stanger is also abnormally concerned with our tresses:

"If you think you're going to get away with short hair, you're not. Men like long, flowing locks. They just do. […] Short pixie cuts are either considered mannish or over the hill."

Everyone needs a weave, stat! Someone get Tyra Banks on the phone!

No one seems to mention a contingency plan if you don't have long flowing hair. They seem to assume your hair grows a certain way – and that way does not apparently does not include a 'fro or short curls or anything that is not long flowing hair. I'm surprised no one quoted any caveman science to back up the long hair imperative.

So, as we've explained ladies, if you don't have a guy, it's one of the three reasons we listed above. Now, if a man doesn't have a woman? It's probably because he hasn't gamed her properly.

Next time - Dating Guides Are Hell: It's All About the Menz!

The John Edwards sex tape, or Tina Brown calling his dying fucking wife a crazy media whore?

Beholding the gross emails your husband sent to one woman, or to fucking five? The fact of the cheating, or the fact of him being an entirely different person in his emails to some woman sitting on the fucking beach reading fucking Alan Greenspan as the late capitalism he created implodes on itself who then has the audacity to call the hacking of her Hotmail account an "evil act" like, yeah, the invasion of your privacy is up there with North Korean labor prison! Or wait, the part where he blames it all on the fact that his wife had actually achieved shit in her life in contrast to his unemployed Stepford mother and her full fucking tank of light sweet crude "unconditional love," or how he used to work for Goldman Sachs, or the part where some cheesy ditz whose idea of banter is "You are so hot" also was not only the actual girlfriend but fucking muse of a celebrated American writer, and speaking of celebrated writers, what about how Dexter Filkins' ex-wife thanks him profusely and generously in the acknowledgements of her book when he was probably lying about not cheating on her because that is what men do but also there are about 976 names that come before hers in the acknowledgments of The Forever War?

Which is all by way of saying: look, if it is true that "the person who is brutally honest enjoys the brutality quite as much as the honesty, possibly more," as I read some witty dead person quoted by someone in my Facebook newsfeed the other day, then maybe it's just because we've had to learn to love the brutality. At least it is a little less insulting to our intelligence, right? And if a loved one's petty brutality gets your email posted to this blog, a Pyrrhic victory is the only kind you can really hope for with most dudes, right?

Which brings me finally to William* and Stephanie (also a pseudonym) who met in a class called "Shakespeare and Plutarch" - so she knew what she was getting into (and she never meant to get into it) - and one night about four years later got really drunk and woke up dating. They made big plans to move to New York and work in publishing (good thing it is so hard to be a pompous delusional alcohol-abusing permadolescent in this town!) but he fucked that up when he came in one night about four months in and refused to discuss what he'd been doing, which was Stephanie's "friend." William is still in Minneapolis according to MySpace, where she found the below a few afternoons later:

—-—-—-—-—-— Original Message —-—-—-—-—--
From: Myles na gCopaleen [Seriously dude? -Ed.]
Date: Apr 16, 2007 5:17 PM

Stephanie,

I haven't known what to say for too long already. But I did want to give you some air, some space from the bullshit. But let me say I'm not an insincere person. Despite the baldest lies, my feelings for you aren't phony, and so I'm sorry that I've shattered your trust. It was always good to be your companion and your lover and I care about you a lot. I'm sorry I wasn't honest about my need for non-monogamy, not to mention the times I flirted with it in your presence. I wanted things to stay as they were between us while I dated casually, which is naïve at best. That is, I wanted to date without anyone coming between us. Not being naïve, I was trying to keep what we had (which was almost all lovely) separate from ‘complicating' people. I didn't want to compete for you with others, and I didn't want you to feel like you had to compete for me. So I became a hider and a liar by degrees.

This isn't foreign to me, obviously. I've never completely broken from the cycle of behavior that formed in my teenage years with my parents, which consisted of intermittent rebellions in secret, justified as the only means to get what I wanted (and felt I deserved, more or less). Certainly, you're not controlling or smothering like my parents were, yet I still carry a self-justified ‘will to autonomy' that persuades me, ad hoc, to make compromises with honesty. Obviously, the means I use toward my ends nixes any real justification. It's a whole lot of barely-veiled denial.

You have always been generous and I regret that I returned your kindness more in words than actions. And my crankiness compounded by the lack of back massages in your direction. And all the gnarly outgrowths of my failed relationship with elizabeth that I refused to prune.

I miss your wake-up faces and your cheshire smile, sensibility, and rare abilities, if you catch that meaning. and I never felt like I was spending time with you, but sharing it. You've gone through a lot of hell lately and have a lot going for you simultaneously. I may have made it easier before I certainly made it worse; I think we have spark and potential yet, so I hope something can be salvaged. After all, it's springtime and there are walks to be had and picnics to attend to. Water and dappled spots to be found. The cinema, the stage, and this little city we live in. pictures I haven't seen yet. Stories I've already told you. Food to eat and philosophies to bleed. Biking, if I ever get one. I don't expect anything of you, because you obviously have every right to hate my guts and I don't want to fuck up your life. But remember, you were once a cheater too, and more importantly, I really could be part of your life without fucking it up. It's been made manifest that you needn't put up with anything from me so I'm at your mercy. Maybe distinct compromises need to be enunciated. when the time comes, Stephanie, things will be different by necessity and by will and from experience.

Call me, write me anytime, and anything I can do for you, I owe it to you. Not for any obligation, but for you,

-Wm.

*I named him after this guy, obviously.

Also, be sure to add Crap The Blog to your RSS reader because one of the days Georgia and I are going to start updating it regularly, and plus if you have any submissions we have a new email account, crap@jezebel.com for that.

Related: ‘Moveable Feast' Is Recast By Hemingway Grandson [NY Times]

Dear Aretha & Susie:

I'm a 19-year-old guy who's been with my girlfriend for four years. The sex is great- she's willing and more then able- but her lack of personal grooming is an issue. She does woman-scape, but very little. I love giving her oral sex but her hair has got to go! What can I do to get her to clean up?

-Hair Freeman

Aretha: If you have the nerve to ask your lover to shave, be prepared. It's on the level of "you need to lose weight."

There is no asking "nicely."

Susie: What does "woman-scape" mean?

Aretha: Shaving!

Susie: How can their sex be "great" and he "loves" going down on her, but then he gets uptight about something as trivial as her hair? If he has an erection, how bad can it be?

I wonder if he's planning to get out a camera.

Aretha: The only way it's going to happen is if he says something- and she's not going to like it.

Susie: Well, what if he said, "Would you shave ME?" -Make it into his kinky fantasy, and maybe she'll join in the dare. It wouldn't be a "self-esteem" issue.

Aretha: No, she's smart, she'll see right through that. If my boyfriend said to me, "Let's shave!" I'd say, "WHY." If he said,"It would turn me on," - I'd say, "OH REALLY."

Susie: What's so ridiculous is that there's a lot more guys who get off on even the slightest glimpse of pubic hair…

Aretha: Then how come don't hear guys talking about the hotness of pubic hair, only tits and ass?

Susie: It's bravado… how many people say their real sexual preferences in public? Most guys aren't Adrian Colesberry.

Aretha: To be honest, if I were her lover, I can imagine having my preferences about her pubic hair… but if she isn't the type of girl who's already waxing or shaving, then she's not that type- leave it alone."

If you stop going down on her all of sudden, that's trouble too. She'll know something's up.

Susie: I just noticed… you two have been going out for four years- why is it a problem NOW? You would think you'd be so close at this point that anything could come up; you could say anything.

Aretha: If you made it through high school, the worst is over- you oughta be able to talk about pubic hair by now.

Dear Aretha & Susie:

I've been in a relationship for over three years, and for the past year we've been talking about getting married. Since these conversations started, my boyfriend started to expect different things of me sexually. He gets upset if I use "dirty" words like cock, pussy, or fuck. He said, "The mother of my future children doesn't talk like that."

We're having less sex, and the sex we do have is more vanilla. I like vanilla sex, but I would like it more frequently. I'm afraid that he isn't seeing me as a sexual person anymore. If we do get married, I wonder if this will lead him to cheat. One of the things that I liked about our relationship before, was that we had a great sexual connection- and he told me over and over how important sex is to him. So if he can't get it from me, will he look elsewhere? Help!

—Unhappy Angel in the House

Susie: I wouldn't want him to be the father of my children, that's for sure.

Aretha: You're worried about him cheating; I'm more worried about about how controlling he is. He's "Madonna-fying" you.

Susie: And you obviously don't want the prayer candle, you want your hot man back. I don't relish saying this, but what if he's already cheating on you? His libido didn't just disappear. Where did his sex drive go?

Aretha: Anyone who says "The Mother of My Children Doesn't ..." - Deal breaker.

Dear Aretha and Susie:

I'm 18, almost 19. I'm a virgin, but have been hooking up with a friend of mine named Andy for a few months. It recently went as far as mutual hand jobs and phalanges-penetration. He says he absolutely does not want a relationship. I know that our "arrangement" is not exclusive.

I would be very comfortable losing my virginity to him, but I'm stuck on the fact that I WOULD want a relationship.

He's been with five or six girls already. I'm afraid my virginity won't mean anything to him. I don't want it to mean "Everything," but I need it to mean "Something" to the other person, because it would certainly mean something to me.

The first time we hooked up, he told me, "If anything ever happens between us- and you need it to mean something, I can do that for you."

Do you think I should go ahead and lose my virginity to my friend- and get on with my life? Or should I wait until I find someone I'm comfortable around who actually wants a relationship?

-Marguerite

Aretha: He says he can "do" this for you? That doesn't sound too generous. I'm not getting a good impression.

I've gone through this before- you're in a touchy situation, analyzing it all alone, and remembering "single sentences." You end up misleading yourself. It doesn't matter what he said when you first hooked up- it's different now.

Susie: I need a break from the romantic angst. Does he make you horny, as opposed to "comfortable?" When you make out with him, are you dying to do more? I can't emphasize how much that will make a difference in terms of your first time with him.

If you have great sex, you'll always be glad of that experience, even if the two of you don't ride off into the sunset. But if you have mediocre sex with Mr. Aloof, you will either get more hung-up on the unrequited romance, or you will tire of him.

BTW, Mr. Andy doesn't know what he'll feel like after he makes love with you- all this "planning" is rubbish. It's not that much under anyone's control.

Aretha: I don't care what he "says." It will mean something to him; it always does.

Susie: Virginity is wildly overrated.

Aretha: I agree with you about the virginity hype from a feminist p.o.v.- but virginity meant something to me- and it still seems important for most people. It's already SOMETHING for her; you can't argue that away.

Susie: But what is that "something"? It's obviously not about her hymen OR the true meaning of love OR the definitive erotic moment. I'd love her to read Greta Christina's "Are We Having Sex Now or Not?" - Mandatory reading for "virgins." Ex-virgins, too.

Marguerite, follow your gut. If you know you're going to be heartbroken, forget it. Get those "phalanges" out of your life.

Susie's newest and 31st book is Bitten. She blogs at susiebright.com and podcasts about sex and politics weekly on: In Bed With Susie Bright. Aretha is eating Indian Pizza in San Francisco and it is good.

Some people keep a shoebox or drawer of old letters and photographs. Some people throw everything away, for a clean slate. For others, a combination — throwing away the crap and keeping only the truly meaningful items. Now, there's an art project called the Museum Of Broken Relationships which serves as a destination for mementos. According to BlackBook:

Everyone is welcome to donate the material remnants of love lost, along with the story behind the object. Submissions are anonymous, and have ranged from the expected love letters and faded photographs, to more unique donations including a leg prosthesis and a gall stone.

Obviously the way you feel about how the relationship ended affects how you feel about the items. My friend Jennifer was going to call her video "Congratulations On All Of Your SUCKsess." But maybe instead of dirty slacker socks, you have a really touching letter, or a well-intentioned piece of jewelry, or goofy but lovable stuffed animal. If the relationship is over, why keep it? Are you building love archives? Do you need a physical remember of your relationship, or do you just want one? What purpose do these items serve? Warnings? Memory triggers? Instigators for bouts of nostalgia? Could you argue that if one needs a little gold locket to remember an ex-boyfriend, he's maybe best forgotten? Could it be an exercise in letting go of the past to send something to the Museum?

Of course, although the person associated with the item may dictate the way you treat it, it's important to realize that they are not one in the same. And most objects are mundane and meaningless when taken out of context. The caption on the stuffed animal above — an exhibit in the Museum — reads:

"I love you" – WHAT A LIE! LIES, DAMN LIES! Yes, it's like that when you are young, naïve and in love. And you don't realize your boyfriend started dating you just because he wanted to take you to bed! I got this teddy bear for Valentine's. He survived on top of my closet in a plastic bag, because it wasn't him who hurt me, but the idiot who left him behind.

Transform Your Broken Heart Into Art [BlackBook]
Museum Of Broken Relationships

The "Plot": Shy virgin Vanessa is an aspiring photographer who just happens to bear a Patty Duke-style exact resemblance to her cousin, top model "Nadia." When Jay Courtland, a former star footballer turned manager, comes to her photography studio, she mistakes him for a male model, and he mistakes her for Nadia. "Sparks" fly. For reasons that are unclear, Vanessa's brother insists she continue to impersonate Nadia and pose for a calendar with Jay's team (in which Jay "jerks off" her swimsuit and insists she pose topless.) Jay and fake-Nadia begin a tempestuous romance. Before they do the deed, though, the real Nadia materializes and exposes Vanessa. Jay repudiates her cruelly and starts sleeping with Nadia. Vanessa, obviously, is forced to travel with the team as official photographer. Jay is abusive and cruel to her for about 50 pages, constantly taunts her by talking about his sex life, then sleeps with her, admits he loves her, and kicks Nadia out of his house. Happily ever after!

The Qualifications:
At their first meeting: "Beautiful and clever," he murmured softly, "the dove fleeing from the hawk, not knowing that her very flight promotes his pursuit, unlike you, who I am sure knows very well the effect she has on the male sex."

After the reveal: "Now that I see you together, I think I must have been blind. You're very much the dross, aren't you, Vanessa? Very much a pale imitation of the real thing."

When he sees her hanging out with another guy:

"Well, well," Jay taunted softly. "Still trying to get rid of your precious virginity? What's the matter, won't he take it either?...Did he take it? Because if he hasn't, tonight I will. That's what you want isn't it Vanessa? To lie in my arms, my body possessing yours?"

Then a five-page attempted rape ensues in which he pushes into her room and rips off her clothes. "No? I think you mean yes...In fact I'm going to prove to you that you do mean yes!" When she "gives in" and they start fooling around, he delivers this charmer: "Touch me, Vanessa. Can't you see how much I want that? Nadia wouldn't need to be asked." This particular time he ends up thrusting her aside in disgust and stalking out; no, when they do have sex, it's because he says, "Shut up, Vanessa. Tonight I'm going to make love to you."

How We Know He's Actually A Good Guy: He gives a lot of money to charity, he doesn't relocate the team, and he's only such an asshole because he was an orphan.

The End: "Stop talking woman and let me make love to you."
She laughed softly then agreed demurely, "Anything you say, my love, anything at all."

Advantages: Jay Courtland's maltreatment of two women in the course of the book (even if Nadia's terrible, so that's okay) gives him a slight leg up on the competition.

Handicaps: Does not attempt any blackmail, use financial leverage, or attempt to force her into marriage.

Our dateline is New York, that would be the first shocker. And as a special meta-bonus, the prizewinning specimen is an actual email sent by a dude by way of analysis of another dude's Crap Email about How I'm Just Not In A Place Right Now Where I'm Looking For A Serious Relationship. (But dude, your Nerve profile said 'New York' and everyone knows that the motto of this town is If You Can't Have A Harmonious Monogamous Relationship Here... ).

So anyway: "Mara" is a 27-year-old lawyer in Williamsburg who used Nerve to meet "Steve", a 37-year-old chef and coffee shop proprietor in Williamsburg, whom she vented about to her 33-year-old welder-artist roommate "Rob" when her suggestion to come by Steve's coffee shop was met with an email of the sort we have just described. Contextual details: Mara is in an open long-distance relationship, which is why she specified on Nerve that she was not looking for a relationship; she was offering to come by the coffee shop because she hadn't been available the evening before.

how are you? thanks for the text last night... i kind of figured that at 11pm rendezvous would be too late on a school night. in terms of this weekend... i don't think i'm up for a visit to the shop yet. and while i'd rather talk to you about such things in person, i'll give you the quick rundown here, and we can talk about it more later...

first, i really like hanging out with you (i hope that's obvious). at the same time, i'm at a place in my life where i'm not looking for a serious committed relationship. to keep that in balance, i need to
keep some things separate... at least for now. that's the short (and honest) truth...

if you still want to hang out monday, let me know... i'd love to. if not, i totally understand...
x, steve

After Mara responded to Steve with a sweet but curt reply containing the word "presumptuous," she complained about the situation to Rob, who said something along the lines of "we wouldn't have to send emails like that if women weren't so bent on marrying us all the time," etc., which gave Mara a bit of the "twisted thrill in killing the enemy" sentiment Rob referenced in his missive about gender differences etc.

Mara now wonders whether she should move out. Our inclination is no, that actually the fact of taking a moment to think about this stuff counts in Rob's favor, and that spelling and grammar and logic do not need to be the strong suits of one's roommate if their names are on the lease of a nice enough apartment, and Mara says they have an awesome roof.

But there is more than a little to find fault with in this email, so much that Georgia and I will be discussing it further on Crap The Blog later on, because we have seen so many perfectly good uncommitted sexual relationships prematurely poisoned by the "Look, you may have never encountered this before because I can tell you are looking to have my babies" neg. (And also because, uh, Steinbeck? Because of the economy or something?) Here's Rob explication of Steve's email:

I can see you thinking this way. I say that, and I use those words not to sound like I know what you're thinking, or even that I know you very well at all ... Lord help me for all the things I think that I know. I clearly know very little, most if it being useless ... When I say "I can see you," I mean it in a way that sounds more like, "that makes sense."

I have lived these thirty something years. I have had all too many poor ideas, maybe a few good ones along the way. And what I think about things will probably never matter to anyone outside of myself,
not the way I seem to court relationships. I have, to be honest with you, grown so disillusioned that I often disregard even my own opinion as little more than more noise in world that is already too loud.

What I have to say then, are not opinions. I have some thoughts. They could go one way or another. They could be worthless or valuable. They could help, they could hurt, or in all probability they will make no difference whatsoever. But, I'd like to share them, or ask them, or set them forward and maybe as time passes we can evolve them between the two of us, and maybe that will be worth something.

You, I believe (which is not to know), have a keen sense of justice. If someone were to ask me what I think makes Mara turn around day after day, I would say, "Justice." This is quite simply, what little I know of you. The thing is that "justice" leans in to the word "fair" which in turn leans in to the word "equality." I'm not saying anything. I have no idea what is true or not. I am not proposing an argument but something more like a hypothosis. "Does justice mean equality?"

And I also need to stop right here and say that I am not talking about something or someone being better than another ... only, definably different.

I tend, I will confess, to not believe in a world of equality. I think I am smarter than a lot people. This is another confession (please don't hurt me). I think that it would be stupid for me to believe anything else. For one: it would serve me no good. For two: the evidence is everywhere. People don't seem to take the time to think about things. I do. Am I supposed to be ashamed about this? Or am I to regard this one who clearly has chosen to think very little as my equal in some way?

I don't think that would make for a good life. I remember telling myself once when I was walking out of bar in New Orleans (on my way to work of all places) that genius requires the warranted or unwarranted
faith that you might just be better than most, if for no other reason than you have tried.

And all of this is somewhat off the subject of the sexes, but it leads in some way.

I'll put this up in the air, "A government is one thing, a marriage is another."

Let it sit there. What I mean is that a government is under an obligation to a whole, to a mass ... in fact I don't believe it can afford to start making exceptions. A government is about laws and laws are inevitably about stereotypes, which is how they achieve any semblance of fairness. "All people that speed are careless drivers." "There is no good reason to steal from another man." "There is no such thing as a benign trespasser." Stereotypes. A government is forced to look at the whole and it has to deal with that vague whole. Justice, in this sense, becomes something larger than us, something that sweeps us up in it for better or worse ... for the good of the whole (or the rich) is greater than the few. Justice.

What I'm trying to direct myself to is that a government uses equality (best case scenario) as the measure of justice. Which is reasonable, necessary and good. I, for one, think that people should not have
opinions of a government until they have asked themselves, "what should a government do exactly?" "Of what good is government at all?"

These are often terribly hard questions for people to answer. They simply haven't thought of it. They think about whether they like the war in Iraq or not. They think about the hard economic times and want
a change. Very little of them think about the actual business of governing. I have three very firm ideas. I think a government should provide healthcare to everyone. I think a government is responsible
to give every child an equal chance at success and an education. I think a government should manage our freedoms such that they don't encroach on another's. I might have some more, but these are central.

The first thing I remember, as I say this, is an argument I had to endure with a fairly wonderful and liberal human being ... because when I talk of fair education I think of boarding schools and uniforms, I also think of testing and specialized curriculums in high school or even earlier.

Have some patience with me, because I think this all ties in to men and women.

So let me start by explaining myself.

1. We cannot guarantee a fair education if we cannot control the home environment. The answer: take everyone out of the home and give them the same chance.

2. Uniforms eliminate financial advantage and conflict.

3. Science and life at large have become so involved that students need more time
to learn it all. Given a choice between the expense of an "extra-grad school, or specialized high schools, I would choose the latter (as a leader).

So this girl was up in a riot. She was an art history major. She did drugs, worked full time, had kinky sex. In short: she lived a full life and was entitled to her opinion of things. But she was accusing
me of stifling creativity (as if that is even possible), and raising a culture of soldiers (as if a mathematics curriculum was the end of human morality).

The thing I am thinking about now is that "a government needs to be concerned with equality AND justice because it is concerned with the whole." As a world leader I don't really have the luxury to give a
damn whether your child might be a great painter one day, or whether you'd prefer that to be. And just because you are a parent doesn't mean you know anything at all outside of how to fuck. My point would
be that a leader has to answer to the whole and should. Government imposed equality upon justice because it lacks the resources to do otherwise. As the king of the world I know that I will die having
upset a billion stupid people, and a several hundred thousand intelligent people ... but the bar I could hold myself to, and the argument I could make when all was said and done: "I gave everyone an equal chance."

And that is the only good argument that would be available to me. Equality and justice. I could say that I gave them both,

Now this girl was rather silly and assumed all sorts of things. I am not against the arts or creative thought. She seemed to feel my ideas were repressive as if I proposed telling people what they should and
should not do ... rather merely I proposed an impartial, probably flawed system of determining what they were in fact good at and giving them the chance to pursue this based on their merit, not their finance. She, clearly, was the sort of person that never thought much about an ideal government at all, because she was founding all her argument on the idea that a capitalist/democratic government was clearly the only moral and good way to govern. As if creativity and art is available to everyone in America as it is.

Why do I bring this up? Because I think that you see the world in a grand scale that most people don't. You think like a world leader. God bless you for it (if I am right ... and if I am not rest assured
that whatever God there might be does not listen to me or care for my blessings). You seem to think in terms of movements. You tell me that a man who is obsessively concerned about the distance of his sexual relationship with you is a bigot. You speak on behalf of women and not so much on behalf of yourself. For in fact, you haven no personal objection to his idea. You like to fuck and so does he and
it would seem that no emotion is involved at all. But it gets to you that he keeps informing you of your place in his life. You call it "stereotyping," and with that word you get offended on behalf of all women.

Where am I going with this. Alright, this is my big gamble. I like you very much. In fact, as I walked out of the house tonite I thought about what a good and wonderful woman you are (or at least what I see
you to be). You are smart as a whip ... you clearly hold yourself to higher bar than the rest of us ... you have worked and succeeded and kept your integrity ... really Mara I can't think of a better woman
than you. You have been kind and understanding and easy to live with. You are honest and sexy and careful.

I give you all of these impressions because I don't want in any way to sound like I am criticizing. I am only talking about ideas and possibilities. I could be so awfully wrong about you ... and I am no one to judge anyone at all.

So having said all of this, my hypothesis (which is to say my theory, which is to say I have no founded proof): You have a difficulty not being a leader. That's it really. I mean, on a personal level this
guy meant you no offense. He was: being a guy, and that should not inherently offend you.

Men are different when it comes down to me and you and him and her. It is one thing to see the world at large and another to see the world at hand. That is what I have hoped to illuminate. I could be wrong
and perhaps I failed because of that. I could be right and I failed anyway. I could also be making more of something that really doesn't merit it at all.

All I can account for is the effort, for whatever it is worth.

As a society men and women are all just possibilities to give an opportunity to ... but as a lover, as a boy: men and women are neither equal or the same ... and as a poet or a write I would have to say that it would be a tragedy to call them so.

If I were John Steinbeck I would say (casually) that you have penis envy. If I were a little more civil I would say that you probably would prefer to be a man. If I were something less I'd either have no
opinion or I'd fail to acknowledge a vague sense of envy. But all of these statements would reflect the same idea: that your problems with men are not societal, but they are inherent ... and they might not
even be problems at all. I am only trying to answer an accusation (two in fact).

Look, as earnest as your anger might have seemed ... I think the dude was just trying to be honest with you. I don't think he gave any thought to women's rights at all because he was more concerned with
you, right in front of him, and not hurting you ... and I don't think that warrants an angry response. Men are men. We are brought up to that way, and if we weren't we wonder what the hell we should have
been brought up to be. We have cocks that penetrate, a need to compete, we say stupid and inappropriate things: but we see the world as men. And women are different, not less but clearly different. For one thing: you'd never hear a man getting angry at woman who kept insisting the sex was just casual.

When you put a man and a woman together all sorts of things begin to happen that maybe we don't like to admit, but they happen and they are there. And it has nothing to do with justice or fairness, because it
has everything to do with love ... which is a much different and often more violent thing.

I guess what I am saying is that even if it is well within your right to choose your relationships based on equality and fairness, it would be a failure to judge your lovers that way. You'll miss things. Love
is not fair or equal and that is a reflection of the nature of things... men are men and women are women ... no man is going to embrace his child with such selfish adoration (or most men at least) as much as no
woman is going to feel some twisted thrill in killing an enemy (or at least most women). And I'm not trying to demean or criticize either... its just that if you take them away and you call it all equal and
fair ... then what do you have left?

We were talking about the mythology of "moves" tonite. Cute conversation, but maybe relevant. I told you tonite, perhaps the only great insight I feel like I might have ever come upon: a woman will
cum when she wants to. Your job is to make he feel comfortable or desperate enough to do it. In this regard I have found that talking can produce results that no movement or swirl otherwise have might.
And one of the consistent truths of this matter? Grab her hair. I won't say that it will work with every girl, but my god it helps with most. Grab her hair ... eliminate in this way her responsibility, or in other words let her just react ... or in other even more words: be a man and take her.

This doesn't get me promotions, if doesn't make me any friends ... but it seems (at least in my very humble experience) to help a woman cum.

Maybe this is societal. Maybe women just feel guilty about cumming and so they prefer to feel forced, maybe I have a skewed experience... or maybe the nature of things is under it all.

I say: do what you want with your life. Be what you want. Be the king or queen of everything if you can convince the world to believe that... but we will always be men and women.

You might have a good argument to the contrary. You might convince me otherwise ... but that would be on you. I can listen to everything. I try at least to hold no opinion that can't support itself.

But I think above everything I am saying .. be easy on us Mara. We have had an experience and it is definably not yours. Your virtue (which is not speak of your lack of perversion but your ideals)
is going to attract good people, good men. Be easy on them and I think you'll find that they are trying.

Or perhaps even more to the point ... look at people for what they are and not what you think they should be. Whether they are men or women. And how would you feel if I accused you of being sexist for giving
that luxury to your friends and not to your lovers?

But that is just a question. I don't know where it is going to land. I could be as wrong as I ever am.

Really, I am terribly happy to have you around. I want these to be the thoughts you asked me for and not some sort of blindside critique. They are not meant that way. This isn't a letter full of truths... these are thoughts to chew upon, to trade and talk about ...

The hot new craze in romance novels (which, as any economist/pundit/chart-wonk can tell you, is the barometer for mapping cultural/political/economic change) is "m/m romance": dude love, for women, by women. (Although writing under studiously gender-neutral names.) According to the Baltimore City Paper, publishers warmed up to this notion when they saw the popularity of Brokeback Mountain with female audiences, and, always looking for a new sub-genre, started encouraging these less traditional story lines.

Although these romances deal in standard love tropes, by necessity (especially in historicals) they tend to involve more realistic situations and setbacks. Here's the description of Trangressions:

1642, England David Caverly's strict father has brought home the quiet, puritanical Jonathan Graie to help his dreamer of a son work the family forge. With war brewing in Parliament, the demand for metal work increases as armies are raised. The indolent and deceitful David Caverly is bored by his father's farm and longs to escape, maybe to join the King's Army, mustering at Nottingham. David finds himself drawn to Jonathan, and after a passing cavalry trooper seduces the beautiful David and reveals his true nature, he determines to teach Jonathan what he's learned. When David is forced to leave the farm, and the boys are separated by mistrust and war, they learn the meaning of love and truth as they fight their way across a war-torn country, never thinking they'll ever see each other again.

Then there is theBrokeback-like genre of straight-living men - often friends, seemingly often police officers - struggling with their sexuality and forbidden love. These are not, as a rule, light stories, even when the subject would seem to be standard historical fodder. In Alex Beercroft's False Colors (no relation to the u-including Georgette Heyer romp of the almost-same name), the aforementioned naval romance, there's more anguish than romping, blouse-ripping and shanties. Says the City Paper,

The pivotal points in the story are markedly different from an m/f romance. First, Alfie admits his attraction to John, who hasn't yet faced his own orientation, and John is embarrassed and demonstrably repulsed. Fifty pages later, John has his first homosexual experience; it is anonymous and disturbing for John, more realistic than romantic. As the climax of the book builds, John is asked to choose between his career and Alfie. It's 1762, and John can either become the captain of his own ship or he can risk the gallows by unsuccessfully defending Alfie against sodomy charges.

Is it too "real" for the mass market? Borders and Barnes & Noble both shelved the novel in the less-trafficked GLBT section, and had Amazon (trying to re-group from its whole 'not rating LGBT titles' fail) not given it a boost, it might have faded away. Instead, it became a bestseller. One can only imagine that in time the genre will evolve to include lighter romances, in which the "issue" of same-sex love doesn't need to serve as a dramatic lynch-pin to the same extent, and the authors can simply have fun with characters who happen to be of the same sex.

But then, as the article's author points out, the genre may appeal because it deals with classic "forbidden love": romances depend on tension and conflict - see the popularity of the societal restrictions in Regency-set novels - and we've pretty much exhausted the boss-marries-secretary-for-convenience trope. Beercroft also says she welcomes a chance to play with traditional gender roles: "Unlike f/f which has the same advantage of equality, m/m allows the writer to use characters who are not mired in feminine gender roles either. So it has a big element of escapism to it, plus the advantage of two gorgeous heroes for the price of one."But maybe there's more to it than that: I have several (straight, female) friends who prefer gay male porn to the kind "aimed" at them; it's quite possible that authors like Beercroft are onto something. The book's popularity would suggest as much. And despite some people's surprise at women writing on the subject for women, there's a funny symmetry to it: it's an open secret that there's long tradition of gay men writing traditional romance under pseudonyms. As one friend (who's done just this) wrote me, "why should we have to categorize who can write what? A good writer can find readers, period - and why should this subject be "niche?" At the end of the day, it's just a romance."

Zipper Rippers [Baltimore City Paper]