Till by broad spreading it disperses to naught.

I read an article by Terri Windling this afternoon that examines Rapunzel, the fairy tale. You can read it on the Journal of Mythic Arts' archive site, here: Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair.

I remember having read a literary examination of Rapunzel before, but the woman in the tower never really caught my attention. I wrote essays about the madwoman in the attic, but never made a connection to the woman in the tower.

But the most interesting part of the essay (for me) was how Windling catalogues the watering-down of fairy tales. The originals are potent, meaning-laden tales that weren't simply crafted as a means to conveying a moral end - they were written for the beauty of the thing itself. And as they are picked down to the bones and restructured and bent to the shape of someone's political leanings over the centuries, they become sparse skeletons of what they once were. They become carriers for moral opinion, tools to convince children to behave.

I think it's a trend that is easily identifiable in thousands of aspects of modern life: we're wading through a mess of brittle, tired beauty. Kind of supports the deterioration of the universe theory, what's it called? Right. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. From order into disorder.

Glad I can be so chipper for you all this lovely, sunshiny Wednesday! Ha!

NaNoWriMo, Day 2 - The muse is...Hemant?

Our VP, Hemant, stopped to chat with me over lunch. He's got a brilliant background in physics and business, and he gives me and Rina a hard time for being artists. So he asked about the NaNo hashtags I've been using on Twitter, and he asked what I was writing.

So I kinda bumbled around about my niche is mythology, but specifically re-centering myths, but usually it's from a female perspective rather than male, but this one's been frustrating because it's about Achilles and he keeps talking too much... and I pretty much made a big mess of it.
And then, the most amazing (writerly) thing happened: I started telling him about this specific story, and what came out of my mouth did not match the notes on my page. It had it's own creative momentum, and it drew from all the research I had done, and it was true to my self-proclaimed re-centering niche. The muse! She's...Hemant!

So here it is, more coherently than it's been thus far:
I'm writing the story of Achilles, but told through the eyes of the women who loved him and who he loved.

Suddenly, there's less oppression in my mind. I might even give each of the five women their own Word doc, and let them ramble away. Hmmmm.

Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for truth.

“Repunctuate your life.”

What do you think this ad is for? Yup. Birth control.

I’m sorry – what?

Birth control. It’s a play on “period” – which I think is enormously clever, but also very sad. What a terrifying state to live in when you have detailed control over even the most natural of cycles! I find it nearly as mind-blowing as controlling the phases of the moon (which are predictable and have unseen effects on all of earth).

I can only imagine what kind of effects controlling your period (so that you only have four a year!) has on your body, which is designed to have one a month. I’m not good with math, but that’s less than half of the natural number of periods a woman is supposed to have per year. Can you imagine what your body must feel like, being forced to skip something that your DNA is driving it to do? My squirrelly mind immediately imagines your body taking revenge by storing it all up so when you have one of four periods a year, it lasts for three weeks and puts you completely out of commission. “Take that!” she says to you.

And of course there’s Kotex’s “Have a happy period” slogan. I vote they fire every one of the men on the design team and start over again – all women this time. Insensitive. Especially when they’ve never personally had the urge to overdose on chocolate. *Grimace*

The last commercial I saw was for pads with ultra-flex wings or some such. The ad showed a Gumby-like mechanical bull (saddle only, with embroidered flowers of course). A pad unfolds (like a flower, but grotesque) across the saddle and sticks itself down. The saddle rolls around like a sweet little puppy while a concerned voice tells you this pad will cover you even on your heaviest days. Yes, but have they fixed the “feels like I’m wearing a diaper” feature? Because I stopped wearing diapers when I was two, and I refuse to regress that far.