Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

Snort.  I saw this on HelenKay’s site, and it amused the heck out of me.  By this definition of “pornography,” it appears that anything a woman might do beyond housecleaning and taking care of kids might easily be construed as pornographic.  Getting rid of anything that might provoke an “intense emotional reaction” would pretty much make us all robots, or Stepford Wives.  Which perhaps is what this guy would prefer.

Gosh. And there was little ol’ me thinking I only read the damn things for the sex. Pottery Barn catalogues, that is. “Love among the Novelty Shaped Teapots” in particular is a favourite issue of mine.

You know, the way things are going I’m waiting for the government to arrest me for purchasing books from Ellora’s Cave.

M

You’re not kidding, DementedM.

With the new obcenity team at the FBI

http://www.law.com/jsp/article.jsp?id=1125318960389

we’d better all be worried about preserving our right to free speach.

Screw Pottery Barn, it takes Restoration Hardware catalogs to make me cream my pants!

And Tonda, here’s another take on the FBI from The Washington Post. The headline is “Recruits Sought For Porn Squad” and the best part is the responses of the FBI agents:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/09/19/AR2005091901570.html

Oh, and the cover of that book at the site?  I swear, when I first saw it I thought the woman in the tub was contemplating a vibrator set on “charge”.

The nefarious influence of Pottery Barn catalogues is worse than you think.

http://www.bettybowers.com/epistle52.html

Be warned, Darlene. Depravity is everywhere. It’s a slippery slope from Pottery Barn, to Restoration Hardware, to this: http://www.annsceramics.com/k3068.html

I am finally willing to admit…
I am powerless over my lust for fabric.  When I walk into an embroidery store, my blood pressure soars, my pupils dilate, my heart beats faster.

Can my marriage still be saved?

Aaaaeeeee!  EAP, I can’t believe you’ve led me to that smut! 

I’m still laughing.

I use to jill off to the Chambers catalog, but they don’t do that one anymore.  Now I have to dig out my old sticky ones and remember the good times and the 1000TC Italian damask sheets.

And jonquil, you know what the costumers say at the sf and fantasy conventions:  “She who dies with the most fabric wins.”

My husband and I always call the Williams-Sonoma catalog kitchen porn and the Ikea catalog cheap furniture porn, but I never expected anyone to make such a reference with tongue out of cheek.

That article reminded me of the discussions of novel-reading one sometimes runs across in 19th-century, er, novels.  But back when I was a much more conservative Christian, I heard similar arguments made (leaving Pottery Barn out of it).  A talk at an InterVarsity Christian Fellowship chapter meeting once advised that the women avoid romance novels of any level of sensuality, lest we be disappointed when our husbands couldn’t sweep us off our feet like the heroes.

I couldn’t see it at the time, and I’m sure the leader giving the talk wouldn’t have taken it that far--I know you would’ve had to pry the Lewis and Tolkien from his cold, dead hands--but you can make that argument against almost ANY work of the imagination.  Heck, romance is less likely to leave you feeling let down than fantasy, IMO.  A good relationship with love, friendship, fidelity, and good sex is attainable for most of us.  Destroying a great evil through one’s magical mojo, martial prowess, or sheer persistence in taking the One Ring to Mordor, NSM.

Argh!!!  You led me to Coulter’s site!  I had to cleanse my monitor and gather extra soft diapers in order to wipe its tears… and vomit. It may never recover.  Is there such a thing as a Coulter-free browser? 

Oh this has to be a joke.  Pottery Barn?  My side hurts from laughing.  And the Chick tracks?  I actually explored to see if it is indeed real. 

My grandfather once made hundreds of tracks.  They looked like folded money and he and other family members dropped them all over the US.  Got in big trouble for making counterfeit bills.  LOL. 

You guys are always good for a laugh. Thanks!!

Rinda

Surely it is grossly female-pornographic just to be wandering around with a name like “Candy”.  I think that you need to change it to something more wholesome ("Obedience Ginger” perhaps) and get back to those dishes - no, the ones in the sink, not the Pottery Barn catalog.

*shakes head in wonder* My problem is I read this stuff and I think it so outlandish I’m sure it’s not serious. Do these people actually believe this? Have they lost all ability to think critically? My God.

*shakes head again* I’m stunned.

Poor Candy. You could always change your name to Prudence. Or Temperance. *ducks flying debris* OK, maybe not Temperance. How about Sexless? Or Joyless? *snark*

I myself am trying to come to terms with my unholy obsession for yarn. Knitting has turned me into a raving yarn maniac. I wonder if my marriage can be saved, since my husband feeds this addiction. I shall pray to overcome my weakness.

Candy *starts sobbing*

Does that make you Salt-Water Taffy? Or is that too much of a stretch?

Would that I still had a sense of humor about these kinds of things.  But where I live, there are two kinds of people - Conservatives, and More Righteous Than Other Conservatives.  There are 4 liberals in a town of 90,000 - and I know all 4 of them.

I KNOW the people who read this, who give thousands and thousands a year to ultra-relgious, right wing organizations like Focus on the Family.  Trust me - this is not a joke.  It’s not tongue in cheek. These people are dead serious about it.  They’re also dead serious about that whole Husband Wears Pants in Family, Wife Follows His Lead thing.

So I don’t find these types of articles funny.  They scare the shit out of me.  But then, I live in the state where the governor signed another anti-abortion bill in the gymnasium of a Christian school.  That was after his staff contacted every leader of every religious org. in the area to show up for photo-ops as he signed the bill.  Clearly, he didn’t get the memo about separation of church and state. 

Now, if a woman in Texas under the age of 18 wants an abortion, she has to get her parents’ permission.  This applies to everyone - even victims of incest.  “Hey, Pop, I need to ditch this baby you got on me.  Sign this.”

I seriously need to shut-up now.  But before I go, the take-away from this is: Don’t laugh too hard or too long.  These folks may be moving close to you soon.  It seems to me they are insiduously taking hold of the American consciousness and I find it as frightening as I do the total ineptness of our government in taking care of the hurricane victims.

Damn, what a downer I am.  Sorry.  It’s doing taxes - always makes me pissed off at the world.

And PMS.

And Rita.

And being away from home for over a week.

Just ignore Eeyore over here.

I wouldn’t say downer, Stef, more like realist. Sometimes I just have to laugh because the alternative is to sob my eyes out while throwing up in disgust at the stupidity of fanatics, and that’s not good for me or my teeth.

*hugs*

Nah, it’s not you, Stef, it’s them. And they are everywhere. Springing up like mushrooms.

I have an uncle, born and raised in CA in a liberal family, and he’s now a Promise Keeper, who quotes Rush Limbaugh, and once told me I was “of the devil” because I went to college instead of staying home and popping out kids (like a true woman).

My grandmother hasn’t spoken to him since.

It’ll all be okay. At 3:33 homosexuals will take over the US government. Thanks for the warning, Betty.

Uff da. 

Ack..and my local library has a copy of this book.  Wonder if I can get it conveniently lost between the stacks. 

And well, don’t parts of the Bible fit this defnition too?

So lemme get this straight, every time I have an emotion I am basically flickin’ the chicken?

And is this a reason to react LESS emotionally? Hell, If I burst into tears I may just cream my panties. Sounds like a pro not a con.

Well, they don’t go for subtlety, do they?  I love this bit:

The female psyche, how different it is from males.  And how desperate its distractions.

Ouch.  No question here who’s the dom and who’s the sub in that relationship, eh?  (Presuming here Hayley and Michael are a married couple.)

This led me on lots of fun “reading between the lines” psychoanalyzing of the writers journeys that included Hayley at one time herself having her heart put aflutter by chick lit and Pottery Barn catalogues, only to find upon marriage to Michael that her expectations were set waaay to high when she learnt she was not to expect matching dishes or pleasurable experiences in bed.  Luckily, Michael was able to explain to her just how wrong she had been all those years, thinking a man who “exhausted all his energies on pleasing her” was “the ultimate creation of the self-centered female”.  But I suppose it’s very, very bad of me to think such things of two people who are obviously trying extra hard to help me avoid this “blight on society” so I’ll stop those terrible thoughts right now and do my best to cleanse my thoughts in future.  (’Cause I have a suspiction that’s what’s next on the hit list: my thoughts.)

PS Why do they say the dictionary of the “honorable Mr. Webter” is “infamous”?  That one really flew by me - I never knew the dictionary was so controversial.

Wait.  That article wasn’t a joke???  The whole Pottery Barn thing was just so… so… Oh man, it isn’t a joke? 

Guess I’m slow today. I skimmed most of those links because I’m allergic to crap. 

As for it being scary, Stef, yeah, it is.  But I have to laugh sometimes or I’d go nuts.  I live in the state that elected Coburn—and this was after he opened his mouth.  Now when he opens his mouth, he makes the Daily Show.

Oh my.  I find it hard to believe that these people didn’t learn much from that whole puritan thing.  O.k., so being uptight sticks-in-the-mud didn’t work 400 years ago...lets give it another go. 

What a way to frustrate/infuriate people.  The ones condemning, because people don’t give a hoot about their opinions and those of us condemned, because they are sticking their noses in everyone else’s business.

I had a ‘and what is wrong w/that?’ reaction to the whold selfish female/center of the universe thing…

Sam…

Candy, those links were...all I can think of is, ‘My eyes. My eyes’

And I heartily second third and fourth, Stef’s sentiments. It saddens and scares me more than I can say to see the insidious religocity(sp?) erode what I’ve always admired about the US: its protection of individual rights and freedoms against the overwhelming juggernaut of its democracy.

X

Ah, the sinful seduction of home furnishings.  Next thing you know, Pottery Barn catalogues will start arriving in plain brown wrappers.  I live near a outdoor mall with a Pottery Barn, a Williams Sonoma, AND a Crate & Barrel.  I walked by the other day and had to lay down and smoke a cigarette from the sensual overload.  Then I rushed to church to confess my impure thoughts.  Dirty, dirty girl that I am lusting after Le Creuset cookware.  Damn you, enamel covered cast iron!  Damn you!

Candy - You do know I plan to buy you this book for the holidays, right? 

I found the link, read the entry and was too stunned to reply - except to poke fun, of course.  Booksquare (http://www.booksquare.com) also picked it up.  Brenda Coulter has an interesting perspective in the comments there - one I don’t agree with, but still interesting.  She basically thinks its a christian book for a christian audience and we should stay out of it.  Hmmmm.  Not likely.

Sigh.

I’ve gotten my share of emails wanting to save my soul for publishing and writing erotica. One even told me I was a bad mother. Hell, I was called a pornmonger right on Lee Whatshisname’s blog (later removed).

Beyond the sexual reactions, I’ve been hollered at for making people think.

Yes, I’m serious. I’ve gotten complaints that our books made them think. Those exact words.

So not only am I in trouble for making the base emotions stand at atention, I also engaged the mind--the two things that kind of mentality type just doesn’t do.

Put the cuffs on he and drag my ass away.

Please. I like it.

And I curse you for showing me the Chick Tract site. I just read the one about homosexuality. I need a bath now.

Hey, Mistress Stef. At least you haven’t gotten hate mail for putting butter in your matzo ball soup recipe. I’m not kidding.

And then there’s all the hate mail I get from people who like to candle their ears. Nowadays, I refer them to the buttcandling website. They generally leave me alone after that.

So here I am, writing a blog that is sometimes political, often rude, and occasionally pornographic, and do I get any hate mail from that? Uh uh. My dumb snot doc website gets all the hate mail. Go figger.

I’m still trying to come up with a good blog idea for this Fed Porno Crusade . . .

The porn article made me laugh, but this makes me want to scream:

http://www.chick.com/bc/1987/evolution.asp

Please tell me it’s a joke! Do these people truly believe dinosaurs and men lived at the same time period?

I never once in my childhood/teen angst years dreamed about my wedding. No dreaming about the perfect dress, which colors, who would be my bridesmaids--never.

I hate generalizations about women.

I never once in my childhood/teen angst years dreamed about my wedding. No dreaming about the perfect dress, which colors, who would be my bridesmaids--never.

Kristin, you’re clearly not a truely Womanly Woman - you’re an unnatural result of feminism, or some such thing.

gah.

Hey,if Pottery Barn is porn for women, is Home Depot porn for men? after all, it sets up an unrealistic expectation for home improvements…

“...I never once in my childhood/teen angst years dreamed about my wedding...” You’re not the only one, Kristin.

On the subject of sweeping generalisations, as children, my younger brother’s favorite make-believe game for a whole summer was acting out his dream wedding to his kindergarten sweetie. He flew majestically up the aisle to the theme of “Superman” cradling a veiled teddy (aka sweetie) in his arms. I got to be the vicar/organist/congregation/detective/paleontologist (there was always a mysterious human or dinosaur skeleton at the reception to liven things up for my benefit).

And just burn me at the stake with my paperback collection as kindling and call me an ape-leader, but I’m single, don’t have either cats or ice cream and am not slavering my chops to get married, despite my fondness for a HEA. But I’m guessing these confessions put me & bro on the fast-track to everlasting fire so I’m off to buy us some marshmallows & chocolate digestives to make ‘smores when we get there.

People, I am despairing :

“If the number of romance novels and chick flicks you consume in a month exceeds the number of dates on your social calendar, you may be getting out of balance.

Plain and simple, the more you live in reality, understanding and accepting the good and the bad of the opposite sex, the less desperate and more Marriable you become. “

Oh, my. I love movies with kisses and books with sex in them! I am not only going to be a delusional old maid [gasp] but I truly fear I am going to HELL! Woe is me…

So, who’s coming with me? I’ve got the rum and the lemons…

“So, who’s coming with me? I’ve got the rum and the lemons… “

Swap a ‘smore for some rum, la Karibane? I’ll pick up some bananas on the way down as well and we can flambé them while weeping excessively at Casablanca and similar overemotional, exploitative smut. And then there’s the Belt-it-with-Bogie drinking game - the fiery imps love that one.

Stef, I’m saying “amen, amen, amen.”

I’m a moderate Christian who realizes that the sin of intolerance has created a whole lot more misery and mayhem than romance novels—or oh, my, my addiction to Levengers and Williams Sonoma and Chefs—I’m such a backslider.

I had to pick up my bottom jaw recently when I wandered over to check out the CBA taboo terms on the eHarl site.  Gosh (whoops, I don’t think I’m supposed to say that!) how is it that the CBA actually allows the KJV of the Bible on their shelves. Song of Soloman (sp?) blows that list right out of the water ...

I was reminded of a quote (can’t verify its accuracy) after Rene Russo, a Christian, appeared topless in THE THOMAS CROWNE AFFAIR.  She answered criticisms to her actions by asking, “Where in the Bible does it say I can’t appear topless in a film?”

Not all of us Christians are nuts. Some of us remember that Jesus hung around with a prostitute and a tax collector ...

If the number of romance novels and chick flicks you consume in a month exceeds the number of dates on your social calendar, you may be getting out of balance.

Hey, what if you’re a fast reader?

I never once in my childhood/teen angst years dreamed about my wedding. No dreaming about the perfect dress, which colors, who would be my bridesmaids--never.

The wedding I had was perfect: Only 20 people in attendance, in a local doughnut shop, with a dude wearing a sequinned sombrero doing the honors, all-you-can-eat doughnuts, and Fruit Loops thrown at our heads in lieu of rice.

If any of you readers in Portland ever want to get married, I highly, highly recommend Voodoo Doughnut. The velvet painting of Isaac Hayes and the cream-filled cock-shaped doughnuts alone are worth it.

I hate generalizations about women, too, mostly because I’ve never fit in with the usual girly-girl mold. The only girly things I long for are pretty clothing, bakeware and cookware--the first because I’m vain but lazy (clothing is a lot lower maintenance than make-up and all that folderol), the latter two because I cook a LOT and having good equipment makes a big difference. Jewelry, festive dishes and home decoration thingabobs make me break out in hives, but show me a Global fillet knife or a Calphalon eight-piece pan set, and you will be treated to the sight of a woman brought low by unseemly lust.

Stef: Yeah, in a lot of ways, this worldview is pretty scary. When I get mad, I either yell, or I poke fun. I opted for the latter.

If only I could vote… Sigh.

And may I say that it’s nice to be hanging out with such a bunch of desperate, lustful, porn-mongering, unmarriable schlubs with impossibly high expectations of their men?

HelenKay: Thanks for alerting me to Booksquare’s take. I take my eyes off that blog for a couple days and look what happens....

OT: Just googled and visited the Voodoo Doughnut Web site. I must go there! (Unfortunately, it would require plane fare, as I’m over here in NY State.) Candy, I wish I got to go to more weddings like yours!

Seriously now, don’t you realize that ‘marriable’ is the sole ambition a woman should have?
(Waits for hysterical laughter to fade…)

What about those of us who had ‘unrealistic’ ideas about what they wanted in a life-mate? You know, those of us who wanted (and I quote)
“undying love, pure romance, sweet words, heroic rescues, persistent pursuit, tears, laughter, protection, flowers, gifts, and devotion”

I unrealistically looked for a man that could fulfill my silly female-porn fantasies. Now, I won’t say that I get the all-romance, all-the-time treatment. (Could anyone really stand that, everyday?) But I have a very nice man, who has a romantic streak. I get respect, I get devotion, I get taken seriously, I sometimes get indulged, and, yes, I sometimes get flowers for no reason at all. The man’s only real fault is that he collects cast iron cookware and that stuff is heavy.

We’ve been together for almost 24 years. Should I get rid of him and settle for some insensitive jerk? I don’t think so…

You know, it’s nut-jobs like those referred to that give Christianity a bad name.
Jesus is a radical.
They need to quit lecturing those of us who are perfectly happy with our lives and read their bibles more.

EvilAuntiePeril’s use of the term ‘ape leader’ got me thinking … I’ve often chortled over descriptions of heroines in (for example) Regency books being described as ‘on the shelf’ and ‘unmarriageable’ past the age of, say, 19, and thanked my lucky stars that I lived in a more enlightened age.  But now I wonder how much progress we’ve actually made if single women (albeit single women with insatiable urges for romantic novels and home furnishing catalogues, the dirty hussies) can be so easily dismissed as ‘desperate’.  Grrr.

The word “marriable” is driving me crazy.  Is this something these yo-yo’s made up?  The word is _marriageable_, at least according to my infamous Webster’s New Collegiate.

I find it unutterably, ironically hilarious that the historical Christ was really no big fan of marriage, and neither was Saint Paul. And yet, both of them are “quoted” in “defense of the family”; the American nuclear family no less, which is a modern invention (to say the least.)

I also find it hilarious that it’s women’s high expectations that are keeping them from submitting and being doormats, while men’s low expectations of women are applauded by evangelicals who can’t wait to have us all barefoot and preggers in the harem kitchen. Wait, no, that’s not really hilarious, it’s pathetic and twisted. Not to mention stupid, discriminatory, and so idiotic it fills me with rage.

Note to Candy: I am another fan of Voodoo Donuts. (I would abbreviate it, but...)

PHEW.
for a moment there I though we are all going to face chic hellfire--they’re using Manolo and Prada to sell a vengeful, fun-hating god. Nope, it’s Jack Chick. Not Chick Lit.

That’s a relief.

Ah yes, Candy, Portland’s own Voodoo Doughnut, where the magic is in the hole. Regrettably they put their infamous “Nyquil Glazed and Pepto-Bismol” doughnut on hold before I had a chance to sample it. Their Swahili lessons clearly move them into the most versatile doughnut shop on the planet.

The Betty Bowers site is howlingly hilarious and wickedly witty! (Mmm…love all that alliteration…)

Okay, enough chatting about smut…must go back to writing it.

So glad that Portland is miles away from the Porn Squad’s core.

“I’m single, don’t have either cats or ice cream and am not slavering my chops to get married, despite my fondness for a HEA.”

Oh, Evil Aunite Pearl. You must be a regualr guest at the Three Bitches B&B my girlfriends and I are planning for our old age. Promise me.

Peril, not Pearl. Once again I should not be allowed to type unsupervised. Grrrrrr.

The Portland metro area has more porn stores and strip bars per capita than any other city in the US, I believe. Also more microbreweries and lesbians.

But how many Pottery Barns does it have?  And how many branches of Restoration Hardware?

But how many Pottery Barns does it have?  And how many branches of Restoration Hardware?

Oh don’t think we don’t have those, too.  (2 PBs and 1 RH.) So, yeah, it’s a veritable hotbed of sin here - just the way we like it. 

Hey - we’ve got to have something on our side to help deal with all of the rain.

Buttcandling. Sigh again.

Yeah, Jesus tried to teach people how to love each other and behave--look what happened to him. Oh, crap, a free thinker, where’s the hammer and nails?

And and you hadn’t heard that bit about evolution? Yes, Satan put the dinosaur bones there to mislead Christians. He’s also has his minions in the Supreme Court, which is why there are things like legal abortion and gays are allowed to roam the streets. Yet another sigh.

As for weddings, mine was planned in two weeks, cost about three grand total, and was beautiful.  I hadn’t really thought about it before the time came, but when it did, I wanted pretties. Anyone who is on the eXtasy Chatters Yahoo group, there are pics in the pictures area of it.

I’m not particularly girly, though. My guy friends thought hanging with me would give them the inside track on women. I told them I don’t understand them either.

“You must be a regualar guest at the Three Bitches B&B my girlfriends and I are planning for our old age. Promise me. “

Tonda, I’d be honoured. It sounds like the sort of place which would fit in perfectly with my plans for a disgraceful old age. So far these include wearing unfeasibly large hats and fluffy slippers in public and eloping with pool boys to the Voodoo Doughnut (thank you for the rec, Candy), then leaving them at the altar for a guy on a Harley called Snake. Also plan to terrify younger relatives and their hangers-on into becoming cringing slaves, obedient to my every whim and leading them all astray. Can’t wait.

While boys are busy building things and tearing them down again, or maybe reading a spy novel or horror story, little girls are dreaming of the perfect wedding and the dream house.

Oh my gosh!  All these (42!) years I’ve been thinking I was a girl, and now it appears that I am actually a boy.  Or possibly a (gasp) homosexual, since I’ve been doing all those boy-things.

Misery: The Ultimate Outcome of Female Pornocopia

Now I have to say I kind of like the word “pornocopia”....but is misery really the ultimate outcome?  I guess sexual fulfillment doesn’t count as outcome to be...um, desired? ;)

If the number of romance novels and chick flicks you consume in a month exceeds the number of dates on your social calendar, you may be getting out of balance.

Help me!  I’ve been happily married for 19 years.  Is it ok for me to read romance now?  Should the number of times we celebrate our conjugal union be greater than the number of romance novels and chick flicks I consume per month? (I know my dh would agree.) But doesn’t that mean that sex is more important than those other things?  And what if reading trashy books and seeing smutty films makes me want to engage in more sex with my husband? I am just so confused.  Perhaps they need to write a post-marital guide.  Marriedable?

Marriedable?

ROFLOL! OMG! This is so fucking brilliant. I expect to see Britney Spears sporting it right across her milk-swollen tits any day now.