Intellectual Promiscuity

There are many things that I would describe as sexy. Clavicles, shoulders, piano hands, and jaw-lines are all things that can make me swoon. The sexiest thing for me by far, however, is a brilliant mind. Just imagine a specimen in which those previously listed characteristics are aligned with a sharp mind…oh boy!

I’m a self-confessed victim of intellectual promiscuity.

I bet you think that’s pretty funny. “Intellectual Promiscuity” sounds almost like an oxymoron, except that it provokes more giggles than “jumbo shrimp.” Though I have no concrete evidence to support this claim, there are probably few people who would ever associate intellectuals or their pursuits with promiscuity. However, in my opinion and that of those lucky (this is not the appropriate word) enough to have experienced it, intellectual promiscuity is alive and well, burning as passionately as Humbert Humbert’s loins in the presence of his nymphet.

Before you laugh me off the stage, answer this question: Have you ever been attracted to someone simply because they displayed extraordinary intellectual ability? Chances are that you have. Intelligence is sexy, especially when the majority of television programs and celebrities of our age have sunk into the realm of the inane. For example, I find it terribly sexy when someone has good grammar. If I were given the choice between a steaming hot model who lacked the ability to distinguish between the “theres” and a Dungeons and Dragons warlock with good grammar, I would choose the latter. A sharp mind is not only more fun in conversation but also generally leads to success in a highly competitive work force.
So, intelligence is attractive. What of it?

For some of us, however, intellectual pursuits and our sexual desires are intimately connected. This isn’t just some crazy idea that I concocted in a drunken, sleepless stupor. It’s a legitimate theory. For example, in the short essay, “The Portrait of Mr. W.H.” the dizzyingly brilliant (and, therefore, remarkably sexy) Oscar Wilde
discusses this phenomenon that has fascinated poets and intellectuals for ages:

In 1492 appeared Marsilio Ficino’s translation of the “Symposium” of Plato, and this wonderful dialogue…began to exercise a strange influence over men, and to color their words and thoughts, and manner of living. In its subtle suggestions of sex in the soul, in the curious analogies it draws between intellectual enthusiasm and the physical passion of love, in its dream of the incarnation of the Idea in a beautiful and living form, and of a real spiritual conception with a travail and a bringing to birth, there was something that fascinated the poets and scholars of the sixteenth century. (39).

There is something infinitely powerful about the union of two minds. Vigorous discussion and debate are not only intellectually stimulating but can take on an almost sexual passion, as individuals strive to prove their points and nail their opponent to the wall. The excitation of the mind, the activity it generates, and the pleasure experienced when you either prove a point or come to a conclusion of the debate can be as pleasant as time spent with a loved one. In my experience, I feel closer bonds of attraction and / or friendship with those whom I have engaged with on an intellectual level than mere acquaintances. Not only do we share a bond of friendship (from hanging out, procrastinating, and doing generally silly things), but we also share the spiritual bond that arises from truly picking someone’s mind apart.

There are several additional reasons that support this theory. Scientists have suggested that the human enjoyment of “the chase” or “the search” is a remnant from our hunting and gathering days when “the chase” was a necessary part of survival. This could account for the pleasure we get from “the chase” when we try to win or achieve something, or when we are interested in someone sexually. It’s the same thing in intellectual pursuit. The search for evidence to prove a theory or make a point is as exhilarating as the achievement of the goal—a sort of intellectual orgasm, if you will.

In addition, this could further support the idea that I looked at in my previous post: that intellectuals are less likely to be in relationships. It makes sense. If you’re getting an almost sexual pleasure from the work you do on an intellectual level, there’s less of a chance that you’ll be going out on the prowl for hot young things. (Note: This is also a result of being locked up in a dark room surrounded by papers and books, your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and your body covered in highlighter ink. Individuals who look like a biology textbook are also less likely to be attractive to the opposite sex). In many ways, the search for knowledge and intellectual closure can take the place of a relationship. It’s a full time job.

So, in conclusion, it’s only natural that we should be attracted to those who we can connect with on an intellectual as well as a physical level. After all, both intellectual pursuits and physical ones are enjoyable by themselves. Just imagine if you combine the two!

Congratulations! You are now officially intellectually promiscuous.

Wilde, Oscar. The Collected Oscar Wilde. Barnes and Noble Books, New York: 2007.

The manifold beneifts of Spontaneity

The other day I was pleased to receive another letter from my friend, with whom I have been corresponding since the beginning of the summer. Now, I'm a great fan of writing letters. Even as a little girl, I loved receiving, reading, and writing letters. Now, as I work through my college years, I have not lost the desire to write or receive letters and was glad to find people who shared my sentiments. There's nothing that makes me feel better than getting a nice, long letter in the mail and poring over it with a good cup of tea at your side.

One thing we've gotten to talk about is how both of us are overly thoughtful when it comes to even the tiniest and most "natural" things. When I say "thoughful," I mean that we think about things way too much. In his last letter, he said something that struck me in particular. I had said something about trying to be more spontaneous over this past school year, and he said, "Sometimes I wonder if people like us are actually capable of being truly spontaneous."

I got thinking and it's true. It's probably not possible. When I'm more spontaneous, I have to consciously think about being more spontaneous. It doesn't come naturally. Perhaps that's just the first step on a long journey of becoming less obsessively overly-thoughful. I always enjoy when I'm freer with myself; I end up having a good time and spending great moments with fantastic people. So, why can't I just let myself live and not overanalyze every little detail?

The other day, I was reading a somewhat distressing article about objectively "intelligent" people. Apparently it's more difficult for "intelligent" people to be in a relationship. Now, I'm not bragging. I'm not saying that I'm particularly intelligent. However, I am in the honors program of a good college and I do very, very well. I can definitely sympathize with this claim; I have never been in a relationship or really had the chance of being in one and the majority of my honors colleagues appear sexually frustrated and disfunctional.

I can totally see how that would be the case though, for three main reasons:

1. Smart people can be intimidating.

2. Smart people are often preoccupied with their studies or their work, most of them being obsessively compulsive freaks like myself. Therefore, there is little time for fun and games or when the chance arises, they feel out of place or afraid.

3. Smart people tend to apply logic to everything. It has never failed them. However, in the matters of the heart, nothing is logical, based on a hypothesis, or predictable. Things happen on the spur of the moment. A lot of people can't handle that.

So, intelligent people are basically screwed unless they can lighten up a little bit.

Something to work on for the future...

Hilariously embarrassing moments from my non-existent journalistic career :)

As many of my friends know, next week my house will be torn apart by 20 union workers with sledgehammers and saws in our co-op's unappreciated efforts to replace the heating systems in all 150 apartments. My father is a professor and a journalist with a love for piles of newspaper clippings which have obscured our view of the floor for the past 10 years or more, my mother is a packrat, and I'm sentimental. The best way to describe the way the apartment looks right now is this chilling metaphor: it looks like a bomb went off in a library. Terrifying, nyet?

One fun / kind of scary thing that I've been doing for the past few days has been sifting through all my papers, treasures, toys, and schoolwork from the past 15-odd years or so. Aside from conjuring the specter of my Pokemon and Beanie-Baby loving 7 and 8 year old self, I have also come across piles and piles of my old writing--from age 6 to present day.

I have always entertained the idea of becoming a writer or a journalist and, boy, does it show in my piles of paper. I've found everything from vintage editions of the "Morning Herald" newspaper with such stirring headlines as "Everyone gets a piggy bank" with a fuzzy Polaroid picture of a piggy bank and "The Case of Lilac Cottage" (my hilarious attempt to rewrite Nancy Drew, in which almost every character suffers from narcolepsy), to "Millie" my first award-winning story about a girl who finds a wild horse and draft upon draft of my work in progress, "Fred Astaire and Gingers Rogers," a biographical and historical exploration of the Golden Age of Hollywood and Broadway.

I would like to share some of the choicest tidbits of my blossoming writing career which surfaced after much dust-filled searching.

I cannot believe I am posting these things on the Internet. Wow.

*DIRECTLY QUOTED PASSAGES:

1. These are some real oldies from when I was...gasp...6, with original spelling and punctuation and breathtaking illustrations that you unfortunately can't see. I was apparently training to be in the GDR's Stasi (see part d).

(a) Once there was a pony She was nice. Her friend was the same but nicer
(b) Once there wrere some bugs. and a lady who wanted to kill them But they got away She was angy. and they lived happyaly over aater
(c) I want to Be a mom when I grow up am going to be 18 when i do it I will have 3 girls and 2 Boys.
(d) 5/3/96: On grandma's block I saw some suspicious teenagers. There was a chinese man with a german Shepherd. he looked like he was about to vandalize a car. There was a woman sneaking around the bushes. she might rob the house.

2. A remarkably stirring tale of man meeting nature. Third grade.

Do Turkeys wear tennis shoes? You wouldn't believe me, but it's true: one day I was walking down the block and I saw a turkey. not just any turkey, a tennis-shoe wearing turkey! So I followed it until it turned a corner and went into a shoe store. It came out with 3 boxes of shoes! When it sat in the park on bench, I sat next to it, but I fell asleep. When I woke up it was gone and I never saw it again!

3. You know you want to send this to your Valentine. So sexy. I don't understand the punctuation...

I ate so much Valentine candy that I...got bigger and bigger and bigger that I burst and then I went like a rocket to the moon and never came down. I loved the star playground, but I got hit by a space rock and got a broken leg.

4. An attempt at holiday-themed poetry. This is perhaps the most disturbing of all. I don't have any idea what was going through my head when I wrote this. I did not know about sex at the time, so I have no f*cking idea...

On Thanksgiving, I saw a turkey and told it I loved it. And it said it loved me the same. So we went into the oven together and then we came out.

*SUMMARIES:

5. "Remember Me, Darling" was my early teenage attempt at a musical-screenplay-romance. I actually got like 40 pages in and had staged and choreographed the whole thing. It follows the story of two dancers in the 1930s who make it big on Broadway and fall in love. Kind of dull, but lots of fun. Later on, I also had a prose version of the story which was told from the viewpoint of my male character who is apparently sexually-frustrated, angst-filled, and OCD (projection? methinks yes. lol).

6. "The Social Effects of Stupidity" chronicles my rude awakening to the outside world where people are apathetic and do stupid things. The study is conducted through a series of angry and superior yet witty vignettes about my encounters with human irrationality. I did this in 7th grade. I think I had a problem.

7. "Gone with the Night" borders on a romance novel and serves as a particularly disturbing example of my sexually-frustrated-all-girls-high-school self. It oscillates between impressionistic descriptions of friendship and youth in the 1950's English countryside and sheer fantasy. Funny thing is that none of these trite observations come from experience, but other reading. My friend described this as "borderline erotica." Nicely (I think) written, but soooo embarrassing:

[The main male character makes a move...]

"A sudden desire swelled up in my breast. I turned to look at her and inclined my head towards the white of her neck. My lips brushed against her flesh. She was evidently shocked. At first her body went rigid, as she emitted a quick and barely audible gasp. The porcelain of her complexion was now flushed with the slightest blush, whisper-pink like a rosebud. I could no longer help myself; my lips had a mind of their own, gently moving up the contours of her neck, inhaling the scent of linen and roses that emanated from her skin. Her body was no longer stiff, but soft and willing, and she turned her face towards mine, her eyes closed, her breathing even. Our lips met."

8. "Mystery of Lilac Cottage" is still one of my favorites. I actually got about 60 pages in. The story is of Susan Drew, the cousin of Nancy Drew, who embarks on a mystery shockingly like Nancy Drew's "The Mystery of Lilac Inn." Every chapter has at least one incident of someone either getting bludgeoned over the head or fainting. Isabelle aptly re-named this early literary triumph "The Narcoleptic Mysteries."

9. "The James Potter Mysteries" are equally amusing and shockingly similar to the Sherlock Holmes stories. I was not aware that Harry Potter's father's name was James Potter, as I had not yet read the first 2 books in the series out at the time. If I ever try to publish this, J.K. Rowling will obviously have to sue me.

Maybe I'll become a writer someday. I'm still writing, with good success. You can check out some of my newspaper work at my other blog, watchthebirdsvermont.blogspot.com. Until then, I'll keep sifting through my embarrassing, yet smile-inducing attempts at writing from long ago.

Comrade Obama and the "Muslim Nation"

Could America really be shifting towards a socialist state?

Under Barack Obama's oversight, it just might be.

With the government's takeover of General Motors, we have now nationalized one of America's biggest car companies. Obama's government has slowly taken more control over the average American's daily life, from setting a standard for car emissions to deciding what kind of cars Americans will buy, and deciding what will be done with the American taxpayer's money in an astonishingly wasteful stimulus plan.

Here are just a few examples of the most egregious incidents of wasteful spending under the new stimulus package, as discussed by Sean Hannity (http://www.pddnet.com/news-ap-list-of-101-most-egregious-wastes-of-stimulus-mone-053009/) :

"Number 39 comes to us from the State of Mississippi where $475,000 will be spent on beaver management and control. Our own Griff Jenkins got to see this up close and to us it looks like a lot of fun with dynamite.

"Number 38 is a $3.8 million stimulus project for Rochester, New York. Now get this, it's to extend art walk, the city's outdoor museum and their sidewalk art trail.

"Nebraska checks in with number 36, $500,000 of your tax dollars will fund a 10 foot wide one mile wide concrete walking trail that will connect the Wilderness Park Trail and the Bob White Trail. Let's see, a half a million for a short cut?

"Number 35 might sting a little where $1.7 million of your tax dollars will go to researching honeybees at a lab in Weslaco, Texas. We all know that bees are important, but you know what, they've been around for let's say, millions of years. Maybe they can wait before we aren't running these huge deficits before they get more of our money.

"Number 34 really makes no sense at all. New Jersey getting $1.3 million in stimulus to stabilize a bridge that the town is planning to tear down anyway.

"Kansas takes the number 33 spot with $580,000 earmark for karnal bunt research. Yes, I said karnal bunt. It's a fungal disease on wheat which studies have shown poses zero health risk to humans or animals.

"And finally, number 30 takes us to the State of Washington, the Evergreen State will receive $47 million in stimulus money to deepen 103 miles of the Columbia River, making it 43 feet deep instead of 40 feet deep. Now, that sounds like a shovel-ready job."

Aside from these somewhat amusing, yet ridiculously wasteful, plans for *your* money, Obama referred to America as a "Muslim nation."

Um, what?

While there are certainly many Muslims in America who are active and beneficial members of society, the last time I checked, America was a predominantly Christian nation built upon Judeo-Christian values. When I say that, I do not mean to imply that Christianity is or should be the state religion of the United States. Even though our values are built upon a Judeo-Christian premisis, I am sure that the founding fathers did not want to exclude other religions but, rather, to ensure freedom for people of all faiths. However, I think it is both rash and childish to say that America is a "Muslim nation," especially when that remark comes from an individual who repeatedly downplayed his own Muslim heritage (calling his Muslim parents "atheists" and playing up his Christian identity) during the campaign and who has now become a "Muslim-American" once in office. For one thing, Obama's claim is just factually incorrect. It is estimated that the number of Muslims in the United States is between 3 and 5 million at most (http://www.islam101.com/history/population2_usa.html). Another poll says that the United States is 83% Christian (http://abcnews.go.com/sections/us/DailyNews/beliefnet_poll_010718.html). A Muslim nation, indeed, oh great leader.

In another disturbing comment related to our head of state, Hugo Chavez of Venezuela recently accused Obama of being more far-left politically than he is:

"'Hey, Obama has just nationalized nothing more and nothing less than General Motors. Comrade Obama! Fidel, careful or we are going to end up to his right,' Reuters quotes Chavez joking on a national TV broadcast." (http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,525055,00.html)

I don't think I like where this is going.

Watch out, America. It's going to be a bumpy four years.

I love when I'm in these moods! ^_^

OK. So I've been feeling super-energetic for the past few days, which is a welcome change from my usual state of summer apathy. Driven into states of incredible philosophical angst by my lack of communication with the outside world, I guess my energies have been refocused: I planted and fenced in my entire garden and some flower boxes, I've started ironing a pile of mmy mom's old shirts like it was my job, I'm basically a cleaning freak, and I am planning on painting the living room during the week. I'm aiming for a really light hue of sage green which should play nicely off of the couch and the curtains. I've also started a new little fitness regime which should keep me fit and have the added benefit of keeping me sane. It's my goal to walk five or six miles a day (maybe an hour or two) and to do some yoga and stretching in the evenings. So, far I've been doing it for about a week and I already feel so much better.

So, no angsty ponderous article for today. I have a wall to paint.