The "Got Milk" folks are launching a new TV ad targeted at women and the men who love them in spite of the fact they become raging hormonal bitches once a month.
"Milk to the Rescue" opens on scenes of desperate men stocking up on gallons of milk. The frantic looks on their faces is puzzling until we zero in on a guy coming home with grocery bags full of milk -- and a bouquet of flowers -- and learn that milk makes that "time-of-the-month" less so. Cautiously our guy enters the house and yells "honey, I'm home." And the universal look on his face leads to that now famous tagline, "GOT MILK?" Depending on what time of the month it is, I either think this is really insulting or really funny.
For better or worse, Ms. magazine has been the publication of choice for mainstream feminists. But according to this Alternet article, seems like the magazine's current owners, the Feminist Majority Foundation, weren't pleased with the direction the publication was taking under the helm of editor Elaine Lafferty. Too commercial. Now Lafferty is leaving.
That's unfortunate, because this was a magazine in dire need of a little something-something. The last time I picked it up (pre Lafferty, who was at the helm for two years) I really wanted to like it but couldn't help feeling bored. Now, I recognize it's a fine balance between being boring and pandering. I was even a bit troubled to read that the current cover story is about "Desperate Housewives." Pan-der-ing, no? Then again, they have to compete with all the other covers featuring that damn show I've never watched. As Gloria Steinem puts it: Desperate Housewives is not important, [but] you start a conversation with Desperate Housewives because many people have seen it, and then the conversation can go deeper after that. It's a shared reference."
So, hmm, I'm posting about a magazine I don't read's coverage of a show I don't watch. Aren't you glad you stopped by?
A worker with Medicine Without Borders named Zoe Young is writing a web diary for BBC News from the isolation center in Angola, where they’re trying to contain the recent Marburg virus outbreak. You get something the news doesn’t usually provide: close contact. Zoe explaining to villagers without language how to put on a protective gear, the way those paper suits crinkle and steam up in unbearable heat, the delicate task of folding a still-infectious corpse into a body bag.
We walked into the high-risk area where the patients are kept. My specs and mask immediately fogged up so much that I couldn't really see.
I found that if I tilted my head and looked down my nose I could see through a small band at the bottom of my mask.
It was a horrible feeling being completely encased, crinkly sounds in my ears from the head protection, hot sticky hands under two pairs of gloves, tripping along because of my long rubber apron and not being able to see.
I'd like to toss some angry kitties at these people
BoingBoing's David Pescovitz points out a disturbing law being proposed in Wisconsin: Should people in Wisconsin be permitted to hunt down and kill free-roaming cats? Residents of the state are voting on that very scary question. The advisory results will then go to Wisconsin's Natural Resources Board. From the Associated Press: La Crosse firefighter Mark Smith, 48, helped spearhead the cat-hunting proposal. He wants Wisconsin to declare free-roaming wild cats an unprotected species, just like skunks or gophers. Anyone with a small-game license could shoot the cats at will....
Every year in Wisconsin alone, an estimated 2 million wild cats kill 47 million to 139 million songbirds, according to state officials.
Despite the astounding numbers, Smith's plan has been met with fierce opposition from cat lovers.Critics of Smith's idea organized Wisconsin Cat-Action Team and developed a Web site - dontshootthecat.com. Some argue it is better to trap wild cats, spay or neuter them, before releasing them.
For the past fourteen years, Dennis “Danger” Madalone of South Plainfield, New Jersey, was best known as Stunt Coordinator and Stunt performer on Star Trek ‘The Next Generation,’ ‘Deep Space Nine’ and ‘Voyager.’ Now, he’s writing, performing, and creating videos for his new Rock Anthem “U.S.A.” I don’t recall ever seeing so many clichés piled onto one another and I’m in an MFA creative writing program. A quick search indicates this seems to be spreading across the blogosphere at a rapid clip! (Alison Bing, you are America!)
Growing up, there were the books about sex that my mother gave me to read, such as “Just Like Ice Cream,” a harrowing tale about a teen who gives in to sex with her boyfriend (hint: it’s not just like ice cream) and winds up a pathetic pregnant loner, with no prospects of happiness again ever. At least that’s how I remember it. She also gave me books by Dr. James Dobson, a radical conservative Christian commentator who makes having pre-marital sex sound about as fun as chopping off all your limbs and shoving them down the garbage disposal.
And there were the teen-sex books I read on the sly, books like Judy Blume’s classic “Forever,” which she reportedly wrote after her daughter "asked for a story about two nice kids who have sex without either of them having to die." Blume exposed me and many other girls to a healthier, more honest portrayal of teen sexuality. For that we are all extremely grateful. But as this piece on Alternet mentions (alas, as with this post, the real story is buried in a deserved but boring heap of praise for Blume) and Bookslut highlights, Blume’s books and those like hers are increasingly under fire from conservatives, the kind of people who burn books in the name of education and tell teens they can get AIDS from saliva. I wouldn't be surprised if WalMart refuses to sell "Forever," though I've never stepped inside a WalMart so I wouldn't know. (They have more lenient standards for their Web site.) I can guess all too well the sorts of books these censors might want to put in their place. Learn more about banned books at the American Library Association’s Web site.
My husband recently turned me on to this fabulous New York photographer, Naomi Harris. Her portraits of humans are shot within a public context--a Rubik's Cube competition, a gathering of swingers, a Miami Beach retirement community, spring break, a porn star academy--and expose the paradoxical relationship between the individual and the system they are acting within. She captures moments that brilliantly juxtapose the fantasy stage drop with the banal details that undermine its desired effect. She is one of a rare few female photographers to document the porn world, though, frankly, the art world’s current obsession with the adult industry is starting to wear extremely thin. I found her Rubik’s cube, retirement photos, and spring break coverage more intriguing. Not office safe, unless you work somewhere kinky.
For better or worse, Ms. magazine has been the publication of choice for mainstream feminists. But according to this 
For the past fourteen years, Dennis “Danger” Madalone of South Plainfield, New Jersey, was best known as 
Growing up, there were the books about sex that my mother gave me to read, such as 
My husband recently turned me on to this fabulous New York photographer, 
