This is a rated R post friends.
Not the usual fodder for themommymemoir but I just couldn't resist responding to Erica Jong's ridiculously insulting and crude comments regarding blogging and bloggers.
While sitting in the doctor's office today I flipped through a magazine and came across this,
"Blogging is vanity. Like loving the smell of your own farts. Like not only tasting your menstrual blood, but making bloody thumbprints (sic) and buying gold-leafed frames in which to display them. But the truth is, not everything you think is worth publishing. Not everyone's opinion matters. How to distinguish a "pundit" from a gasbag? Impossible! On television, they yell and posture. On blogs, they are equally puffed up with self-importance...
First reaction: eeewwwww. Second reaction: she is still alive? Third reaction: my, my...isn't she a bitter little senior citizen?? I bet she labored long and hard over that ever so gracious hyperbole, all in an effort to make sure that we, the literary peasantry, clearly understand just how erudite and elevated she is. Because after all, she is Erica Jong. She alone is responsible for the renaissance of female sexuality. I mean really--life as we know it would be so empty if we weren't privy to her lovely, enriching prose. I would feel personally cheated had I never heard that oh so bandied phrase, "the zipless f***".
Needless to say, the blogging community had lots of fun responses for Ms. Jong. This mommy laughed at many of them but they are far too lurid and unseemly for themommymemoir. Suffice it to say, they spoke in a particular brand of vernacular that Ms. Jong surely understands. As a champion of sexual expression, she must appreciate the zest with which various bloggers told her she could go f*** herself. (Temper, temper bloggers.)
Instead of hurling insults, let's just chat about her emission of noxious fumes. Her wildly popular Fear of Flying, once considered a manifesto for female, sexual liberation, has failed to stand the test of time. Peruse a few pages and you will quickly glean that her soft porn approach to sexual enlightenment is laughable. I believe the term that best fits here is passe'. And so not applicable to the lives of most women of my generation. The mere thought that the author of the above posted quote has anything at all to say about human sexuality is actually rather frightening. It's got to be tough when at her pinnacle, in the 70s, Erica Jong was the it-girl of the paper back novel crowd. Now she's just cranky and irrelevant.
Listen Ms. Jong...Just in case you're vain enough to google yourself and you just happen to come across this post...I blog because I want my children to know their mother as a distinct person who had all kinds of thoughts an opinions about a myriad of subjects. Sure, they will see that for themselves simply by living with me. But a lot of the day-to-day I won't remember in years to come. So here it is. Now, if a few other folks want to read it along the way--great. I don't pretend to be a pundit, an expert, or any other such thing. Sometimes I read what I wrote and think, "Wow..that sounds like crap. But it's all I could muster that particular day." So be it. That in and of itself might be kind of telling in years to come.
Mostly, it's just for my kids. And something tells me they will think these fumes smell pretty damned good. In the meantime darlin'...just go run your own race. You've got some serious catching up to do.
While sitting in the doctor's office today I flipped through a magazine and came across this,
"Blogging is vanity. Like loving the smell of your own farts. Like not only tasting your menstrual blood, but making bloody thumbprints (sic) and buying gold-leafed frames in which to display them. But the truth is, not everything you think is worth publishing. Not everyone's opinion matters. How to distinguish a "pundit" from a gasbag? Impossible! On television, they yell and posture. On blogs, they are equally puffed up with self-importance...
First reaction: eeewwwww. Second reaction: she is still alive? Third reaction: my, my...isn't she a bitter little senior citizen?? I bet she labored long and hard over that ever so gracious hyperbole, all in an effort to make sure that we, the literary peasantry, clearly understand just how erudite and elevated she is. Because after all, she is Erica Jong. She alone is responsible for the renaissance of female sexuality. I mean really--life as we know it would be so empty if we weren't privy to her lovely, enriching prose. I would feel personally cheated had I never heard that oh so bandied phrase, "the zipless f***".
Needless to say, the blogging community had lots of fun responses for Ms. Jong. This mommy laughed at many of them but they are far too lurid and unseemly for themommymemoir. Suffice it to say, they spoke in a particular brand of vernacular that Ms. Jong surely understands. As a champion of sexual expression, she must appreciate the zest with which various bloggers told her she could go f*** herself. (Temper, temper bloggers.)
Instead of hurling insults, let's just chat about her emission of noxious fumes. Her wildly popular Fear of Flying, once considered a manifesto for female, sexual liberation, has failed to stand the test of time. Peruse a few pages and you will quickly glean that her soft porn approach to sexual enlightenment is laughable. I believe the term that best fits here is passe'. And so not applicable to the lives of most women of my generation. The mere thought that the author of the above posted quote has anything at all to say about human sexuality is actually rather frightening. It's got to be tough when at her pinnacle, in the 70s, Erica Jong was the it-girl of the paper back novel crowd. Now she's just cranky and irrelevant.Listen Ms. Jong...Just in case you're vain enough to google yourself and you just happen to come across this post...I blog because I want my children to know their mother as a distinct person who had all kinds of thoughts an opinions about a myriad of subjects. Sure, they will see that for themselves simply by living with me. But a lot of the day-to-day I won't remember in years to come. So here it is. Now, if a few other folks want to read it along the way--great. I don't pretend to be a pundit, an expert, or any other such thing. Sometimes I read what I wrote and think, "Wow..that sounds like crap. But it's all I could muster that particular day." So be it. That in and of itself might be kind of telling in years to come.
Mostly, it's just for my kids. And something tells me they will think these fumes smell pretty damned good. In the meantime darlin'...just go run your own race. You've got some serious catching up to do.
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