(1:30 PM) I could be crass and call Hanoi Jane a clueless cu*t...but I refuse to sink to her or Ensler’s level--especially on Valentine’s Day. My buddy had the perfect word for Fonda, Ensler and 'VM': Dreadful!
(11:40 AM) Yeah, between this morning's clueless Gazette column (can't post the link because they are so money grubbing you need to subscribe) by Principal Jackson--the second pro 'Vagina Monologues' Op/Ed piece this week, and the editorial in the venereal—I mean venerable--Amherst Bulletin today (can post that, but they are so crusty it may not go cyber until sundown) and with my wife of 25 years half-a-world away today (V also stands for Valentine's Day) I'm really not in a great freaken mood. So I'll stew for a while, go on a bike ride and post later. Grrrrrrrrrr
I call it cunt. I’ve reclaimed it, “cunt.” I really like it. “Cunt.” Listen to it. “Cunt.” C C, Ca Ca. Cavern, cackle, clit, cute, come—closed c—closed inside, inside ca—then u—then cu—then curvy inviting sharkskin u—uniform, under, up, urge, ugh, ugh, u—then n then cun—snug letters fitting perfectly together—n—nest, now, nexus, nice, nice, always depth, always round in uppercase, cun, cun—a jagged wicked electrical pulse—n (high pitched noise) then soft n—warm n—cun, cun, then t—then sharp certain tangy t—texture, take, tent, tight, tantalizing, tensing, taste, tendrils, time, tactile, tell me, tell me, “Cunt, cunt,”say it, tell me “Cunt.” “Cunt.”
And of course the “actress” at the climax leaps to her feet and strikes a defiant but exuberant pose with both arms uplifted like Mary Lou Retton after sticking her final dismount and knowing—even before the gymnastic judges call—that she had just performed a perfect routine to win an Olympic Gold Medal. Somehow I think Ms. Retton worked a lot harder for her achievement. Amherst Bulletin talkback
UPDATE: Rainy, miserable Wednesday late morning: This email says it all (to the correct people as well):
To: hochmanj@arps.org; elbrighty@amherst.edu; amherstac@aol.com Sent: Tue, 12 Feb 2008 7:38 pm Subject: V-Monologue
Hi:
It is absolutely ludicrous that you would promote this performance to the extent that you have. The C-word, in my vocabulary, and many others, has long been eliminated as a word that is spoken, our thought. It is so far removed from many minds. Their is no benefit to anyone to introduce this word at this performance. It is derogatory, and I don't see the educational value. I would hope that this word is not be spoken at your high school performance. I applaud Mr. kelley for his adamant defiance.
The Vagina Monologues 1998 ‘The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could’ Memory: Thirteen years old:
“Now people thought that it was a kind of rape. I was only thirteen and she was twenty-four. Well, I say, if it was a rape, it was a good rape then, a rape that turned my sorry-ass coochi snorcher into a kind of heaven.”
The Vagina Monologues 2001 ‘The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could’ Memory: Sixteen years old:
“I realize later she was my surprising, unexpected, politically incorrect salvation. She transformed my sorry-ass coochi snorcher into a kind of heaven.”
Monday (2:00PM) So somewhat true to form the Amherst Bulletin about an hour ago erased, censored, spiked ALL the comments posted to the Front Page story about Vagina Monologues at Amherst Regional High School.
One of those comments simply a direct, unedited, rendering of the entire "Reclaiming C*nt" Monologue (all one paragraph) that a teen-aged girl will publicly perform this coming Friday on school property at taxpayer expense. Hmmmm....
The venerable Amherst Bulletin has gotten over their squeamishness about using “Vagina” in a headline. No BIG deal, as I have repeatedly stated I have no problem at all with THAT word.
But just to test my crusty friends in the journalistic bricks and mortar world (at least their cyber counterpart) I left a comment on the story almost as soon as it went cyber, late Thursday. Ummm…No I will not now repeat the words as I consider this blog rated PG.
Let’s just say they were disgusting hateful “fighting words” including the particular one (C-word rhythms with bunt) that I am so agitated about.
The response lasted about 14 hours and after one clueless Amherst woman posted a complaint about my “profanity,” the comment disappeared.
Last night I reposted “Reclaiming C#nt” Monologue in its one paragraph entirety. Let’s see if the Amherst Bulletin can handle that. And if not, makes you wonder why they would give this “art” such fawning Front Page exposure.
So for those of you eagerly wondering who won the great downhill “Cardboard Box Race” out at my favorite White Elephant, Black Hole, Money Pit—the municipally owned Cherry Hill Gold Course (oops, I mean Golf) on Saturday, check out the video.
The Kelley clan--Kira and Larry--smoked the competition (and an innocent young bystander too close to the Finish Line), including peacenik Select Board Chair, His Lordship Gerry Weiss and Town Manager Larry Shaffer’s stand in (or I should say sit in).
Weiss's peacemobile encountered a lot of drag. And why do I just know that if this event took place on December 8'th, 1941 we would have seen the same Spin.
Since it all happened so fast I had not realized until this morning (Monday) from the photo Cinda Jones just emailed that we were in last place coming out of the shute. But it ain't over until the Fat Lady sings. And about 10 seconds later they were eating our snow.
