There’s a wasp thinking of making a nest at our nest door. They bumble about. And a bumblebee flew right into me and bounced off. I wonder if a wasp every stung a house? If, as like last year, one would sting me while sleeping, I wonder how often they run into things and retaliate blind. Are they blind? Do I need to smell more?
Have you seen the Dove ad parody? Dove with balls. So beautiful. The first ad irked me in trotting out insecure women who had a eureka once a male authority told them, contrary to their story of self, everything life has told them, sweeping away the collective of millions of iterations, that they are beautiful. Oh great moment of revelatory weeping.
Would it have been so offensive if it targeted that male customers also have been known to use soap and some also have distorted body image, and the same sets of reactions? Probably not. A breakthrough is a good story. Women underestimating themselves is a safe template. You become the hero to smash some symbolic version of the template. I understand the logic. I just don’t like it.
So balls to that. The parody is gender reversal using a wonderful accuracy of staging, lighting, similar sound bites but cranking the the docu-vertorial up a notch. As ever when roles are reversed, males doing it don’t look the same. There’s a self-awareness that females “captured”, not knowing they are in, don’t have.
Noteable Quoteable: “The one supreme virtue among the patriarchs was hospitality, and no matter how many servants a person had it must be the royal service of his own hands that he performed for a guest. In harmony with this spirit Rebekah volunteered to water the thirsty camels of the tired and way-worn travellers. [...] The whole narrative shows Rebekah’s personal freedom and dignity. She was alone at some distance from her family. She was not afraid of the strangers, but greeted them with the self-possession of a queen. The decision whether she should go or stay, was left wholly with herself, and her nurse and servants accompanied her.” ~ Clara Bewick Colby, in The Woman’s Bible by Elizabeth Cady Stanton (1895)