The problem, as I see it, is that any woman stupid enough to believe a horny guy who says, "oh, yeah, right, uh, I'm like totally on the pill, no problem" shouldn't be considered legally competent to give consent.
I keep saying "Sunnyside" over and over again, but people just don't listen.
Folks, here's a story about Mittie the Moocher
He paid for health care with a voucher.
His words were reckless, feckless lyin'
His policy advice he got from Paul Ryan.
@stuffisthings First base.
@bluebears "It says so right here in your copy of the Blade, sweetheart, so it must be true. Oh, and there's an interview with Chita Rivera!"
This novel features one of the most wonderfully subtle turning points, a quiet little moment set among big melodramatic scenes of boats running aground and flares and things. All through the book, "Mallory" has told herself over and over again that she is just incapable of being the mistress of a place like Manderely: she hasn't the background or the temperament or the organizational ability. Running Manderly was what Rebecca could do, so there's no way "Mallory" could possibly.
And yet, in the aftermath of that horrible costume ball, when the shipwreck suddenly happens and the whole place is overrun with coast guard and ambulances and everything, "Mallory" quietly, unconsiously, steps up to the plate. She gets the weekend guests sent home or else put up somewhere in the house where they won';t get in the way, and organizes meals and places to sleep and hot tea for the dozens of rescuers overrunning the place. She even puts Danvers in her place almost off-handedly when she tells the old bat that there is so much food wasted daily at Manderley there ought to be plenty to spare for the emergency workers, so just shut up and get to work and stop complaining.
It's a crisis, and "Mallory" is the only one who doesn't fall completely to pieces. She's strong -- in fact, she's always been strong-- but she's never had to access that part of herself before.
du Maurier could easily have fallen into the trap of writing an explicit epiphany here, but she leaves it for the reader to discover. It's a great, great example, of "show, don't tell."
@cory dodt@twitter You should hear him making a case for creationism. Uncanny.
Trick question. There is no "herself" in Katie Roiphe.
On the other hand, if you are the fashion director at Us Weekly and your name is "Sasha," you are already so far in Hell you probably use rich toddlers for kindling.
On Book Gay
To be sure, it's a great scene, big Hollywood acting at its best, with that really iconic moment (2:12) when Crawford morphs from surprised hurt to absolute cold resolve: I really believe that is what the face of a murderer looks like. But, gay as I am (a lot) I don't find this scene particularly campy or queer-resonant. For that you want Crawford in the 1950s in junk like Queen Bee or Female on the Beach. Now those are movies that have a lot in common with anal sex, especially in the "what was I thinking?" department.