Steve Dyer

It was reported earlier today that Sasheer Zamata has been added to Saturday Night Live, joining the cast as a featured player at midseason. Zamata, a standup, improviser, actress, and writer out of New York's UCB Theatre, was one of two dozen SNL hopefuls who tried out for the show last month in a series of showcase auditions the show held in response to criticism over the lack of diversity in its cast. Zamata began studying at UCB in 2009 and is currently a member of the Harold team Bucky and the black female improv trio Doppelganger. She has appeared in web videos for CollegeHumor and Above Average and has made TV appearances on Inside Amy Schumer, Totally Biased with W. Kamau Bell, and Hey Girl.

Check out a collection of Zamata's web and TV work below:

Episode 1 of Zamata and Nicole Byer's UCBComedy web series The Pursuit of Sexiness

Zamata doing standup on YouTube's Official Comedy

Zamata's appearance on the Above Average web series The Morning After

Her appearance on Inside Amy Schumer

On Totally Biased with W. Kamau Bell

On Chioke Nassor's web series Storytime

Her acting reel

Her standup reel

Her writing reel

The latest from science:

The researchers measured the direction of the body axis of 70 different dogs while they were off-leash during 1,893 acts of defecation and 5,582 acts of urination over a two-year period. They found that, under calm magnetic field conditions, dogs prefer to orient their bodies along the North-South axis when they poop. However, this behavior did not occur during unstable magnetic field conditions, and the best predictor for this change of behavior was the rate of change of magnetic declination.

A reader points out:

The coauthor of the study is named Sabine Begall.

John Aravosis chimes in:

Every dog owner is familiar with the intricacies of doggy-pooping.  It seems to be a quite delicate dance, for some dogs – and conditions must be just right or it won’t happen.  My Sasha is a relatively easy pooper, but things still need to be just right.  My mom’s dog, Kukla, on the other hand, is a basket case.  Kukla usually has to walk blocks and blocks first – regardless of whether it’s approaching zero outside – and even then the result is not always guaranteed.

Many readers sound off on the polarizing film:

Love Actually is interesting because it is a story about the different aspects of love, not just romance. New love (Jack and Just Judy). Old love in a rut (Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman). Unadulterated lust (Collin). A parent’s love, as well as love for and duty to a deceased partner (Liam Neeson).  Siblings (Laura Linney). Unrequited love (Mark and Juliet). Love between friends (Billy Mack). Love with obstacles (Jamie and Aurela). Love you try to deny but can’t (HG and Natalie). I really like the fact that it isn’t a traditional love story.

Relating to the point of work required for a relationship, while Liam Neeson’s character displays this in the care and devotion he shows the son of his departed wife, it was best illustrated by a storyline left on the cutting room floor.  In the deleted scenes, there is a story about the principal of the posh elementary school where Emma Thompson’s children are enrolled.  The principal has her own love story, providing hospice care to her beloved longtime partner, and dealing with the grief over her loss.

Another reader:

The rabid fans of Love Actually I know are all chronically, unhappily single.  I know some coupled folks and happy singles who like the movie well enough. But it is the unhappy singles who spontaneously post their adoration of the movie on Facebook or will at the slightest provocation tell you their favorite scenes in great detail. Far be it from me to suggest that the inability of these people to form the sort of meaningful relationship they so desire and the movie’s unrealistic portrayal of how love is found, won, built and sustained is anything more than sheer coincidence.

Another:

It certainly isn’t a how-to for romance. Some of the relationships are entirely inappropriate. No one recommends buying an expensive piece of jewelry for a flirtatious coworker instead of your wife or declaring your love to your best friend’s new wife.

But I think the central running theme here is about allowing your heart to run and giving up self-censorship.

That’s the fundamental romanticism of the film. And like all romanticism it’s not realistic; it’s emotional. The one character who doesn’t release her self-censorship (Laura Linney) misses her chance. The others get the chance to at least express their emotions, which is refreshing in an emotionally stilted culture. I like the movie and I will probably watch it again in the next week, not because I need pointers on how to cheat on my wife, but because I want to enter into the emotion that causes these people to do profoundly stupid things.

Another:

I just love the movie and find it to be an uplifting paean to love and the yearning for connection.   It seems to me that this movie displays how the world does look to someone who is actually in love, particularly in the first flush of romance.  When in love, we see mostly good and as love matures, we are given the opportunity to work with the difficult as well as the easy.  This film does display some of the challenges that may occur in relationships, as reflected in the characters played by Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman, and what happens after the death of a loved one for Liam Neeson’s character.  Also we have Laura Linney’s character, her mentally ill brother, and her delicious co-worker, as another representation of love and yearning for connection but involving difficult choices.

One more point.  I find this movie especially interesting because it displays the pursuit of love mostly from a male point of view, one not often portrayed in films.  I do think that this film can be unsettling to some men since it does reveal that most men do have a deep sensitivity to love and a desire for real connection with someone, whether the preference be female or male.  This deep sensitivity carries with it an anxiety about potential rejection from the desired individual and, as revealed in this film, guys are as vulnerable to this as women are.  But most films do not display that aspect in men’s lives.  And most men have been culturally trained to not let this vulnerability show.  It is not macho.

So I would recommend that people just “lighten up” and try to balance joy with all of the intellectual analyses of this film. This film presents us with a beautiful invitation  to get out of our head and into our heart.

Another points to the above scene:

The best part of Love Actually is the last minute or so, where the filmmakers simply show real people meeting loved ones at the airport (to a soundtrack of the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows”). I defy anyone not to be moved!

Previous debate on the film here.

ciryes:

Yeeeeeeah

Christian Jarrett offers “a calm look at the most hyped concept in neuroscience — mirror neurons,” which have been linked to human empathy and “the birth of human culture”:

[W]e do not yet have the research to show that mirror neurons are vital for human empathy, and there are reasons to believe that empathy is possible without them. For starters, we are able to comprehend the intentions behind the actions of other people or animals even if we’ve never performed, or are incapable of performing, their actions ourselves. Many brain damaged patients who can no longer produce speech are still able understand it. There are other patients who have lost the ability to express emotion yet can still understand the emotion of others.

He praises a recent paper by neuroscientists James Kilner and Roger Lemon:

Reading their paper it soon becomes clear that the term “mirror neurons” conceals a complex mix of cell types.

Some motor cells only show mirror-like responses when a monkey sees a live performer in front of them; other cells are also responsive to movements seen on video. Some mirror neurons appear to be fussy – they only respond to a very specific type of action; others are less specific and respond to a far broader range of observed movements. There are even some mirror neurons that are activated by the sound of a particular movement. Others show mirror suppression – that is their activity is reduced during action observation. Another study found evidence in monkeys of touch-sensitive neurons that respond to the sight of another animal being touched in the same location. …

Importantly, Kilner and Lemon also highlight findings from monkeys showing how the activity of mirror neurons is modulated by such factors as the angle of view, the reward value of the observed movement, and the overall goal of a movement, such as whether it is intended to grasp an object or place it in the mouth. These findings are significant because they show how mirror neurons are not merely activated by incoming sensory information, but also by formulations developed elsewhere in the brain about the meaning of what is being observed.

This is not to detract from the fascination of mirror neurons. It does show they are not the beginning of a causal path. Rather they are embedded in a complex network of brain activity.

how the fuck does that just “happen” to a pizza

kirstielovesart:

Erotic humanoid version of a L’Oréal Kids shampoo bottle

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After granting amnesty to Pussy Riot and 30 jailed Greenpeace activists, Vladimir Putin ordered the release of former oligarch Mikhail Khodorkovsky, who has been imprisoned for a decade. Masha Gessen credits Obama’s decision to skip the Olympics and send a delegation of openly gay athletes:

She expects that “Putin’s ongoing crackdown on civil society will likely intensify significantly after the Olympic closing ceremony is over” but argues that “is no reason not to do the right thing, like refusing to stand next to a dictator as he puts on the show of his dreams.” Leonid Bershidsky comments:

The image Putin wants to project to the world is not that of a dictator who steals elections, stifles dissent and jails political opponents, but that of a mainstream conservative statesman who respects his country’s traditions and rules in the interest of the moral majority. That show may still get an audience of dignitaries in Sochi: There are still plenty of global leaders who have not pleaded schedule conflicts. The U.K. Prime Minister David Cameron, who famously rebuffed [Stephen] Fry by saying, “We could better challenge prejudice as we attend,” has not yet made his plans known. Neither has German Chancellor Angela Merkel.

Fisher mulls Putin’s political calculations:

So why is Putin doing it? Well, let’s look at what these pardoned prisoners have in common: they are all pretty famous and are well-known particularly in the West. This might sound obvious, but it’s worth noting that Putin may be pardoning Khodorkovsky et al. for the sake of appearances and not because he is actually interested in softening Russia’s treatment of political prisoners.

It’s not clear that Putin actually stands to lose very much with these pardons. After all, if the primary purpose of political arrests is to shape Russian politics, then the imprisonments of Khodorkovsky and the Pussy Riot members have likely served their purpose. Russia’s oligarchs got the warning loud and clear: don’t cross Putin, don’t go into politics. Russian civil society has a sense, from the Pussy Riot arrests, where the red lines lie. The political purpose of the Greenpeace arrests was never as obvious to me – a warning to foreign NGOs, perhaps – but it’s hard to imagine that the message was lost on its intended targets, if there were any.

The upside for Putin here is considerably clearer.

Eleanor Margolis applauds Obama’s Olympic snub:

In making one of the world’s most famous lesbians a US representative in legally homophobic country, Obama is breaking the relative silence of world leaders when it comes to condemning Russia’s new legislation. The “we’re here, we’re queer”-ness of the US Olympic delegation may not be groundbreaking, but it certainly draws attention to where it’s needed. Post-Cold War, some of America’s intercontinental ballistic missiles are lesbian-shaped.

Keating thinks releasing Khodorkovsky is a risk:

Previously on Scare Yourself Silly: Boothworld Industries. 

Let’s play a little game. You’ve probably played it before; it’s called “Two Truths and a Lie.” Can you guess which of these three news stories are true and which is false?

***

1.

A group of university students were shocked to find that a stranger had taken up residence in the basement of their off-campus home without their knowledge.

The students, a group of eight men and two women, first moved into the house on August 5; when strange things began happening shortly thereafter, they began to joke that their house was haunted. Drawers would be left open in the kitchen and the bathroom; lights would be found turned on; and periodically, strange noises emanated from the basement. The students traced the noises to a locked door in their basement, located two flights down from the house’s main level. They were unable to open the door; assuming it to be a utility closet, they left it alone.

After several weeks of unsettling activity, the students called both their landlord and the police, who were able to pry the handle off the locked door. Behind it, they found a furnished bedroom, complete with clothing, a television, and photographs on the walls: Evidence that someone had been residing in their basement, rent-free and without their knowledge, the entire time they had been living there. Based on the photographs in the room, one of the students realized that he had previously had a run-in with their mysterious roommate; the man had introduced himself as “Jeremy.” Although “Jeremy” was an unfamiliar face, the student had assumed he was visiting one of the house’s other nine occupants and did not pursue the matter further.

The students were able to get in touch with “Jeremy” via a note left in his room. Although he has since moved out of the basement, the house’s official occupants remain shaken up. The students are considering taking legal action against the realty company that leased them the house, citing among other concerns the facts that they had not changed the locks or made sure that the house was vacant before their new tenants moved in. “It could have potentially been a scary situation,” one of the students said. “They hadn’t changed the locks from the year before, and the keys don’t say ‘do not duplicate.

“There could be hundreds of people with keys to the house.”

***

2.

A single mother discovered recently that an old boyfriend had been living in the attic of her home after his release from jail.

The woman, who has asked not to be identified for her safety, dated the man for a year almost a decade ago, terminating the relationship after he became involved in petty crime. The last time she had seen him was when he helped install some doors in her house last year; he was later convicted of stealing her truck. He had finished serving his sentence and was released from jail two weeks prior to his discovery.

As the mother of five put her children to bed on Saturday night, she heard a thump coming from the ceiling. Thinking that perhaps an animal had gotten into the attic, she asked her adult nephew and her older sons to investigate. To their shock and surprise, they found a man living in the attic. Upon being discovered, the man ran downstairs and out of the house, disappearing before the police could arrive.

 During their investigation, police officers found that the man had packed old coats and jackets being stored in the attic into the heating unit, where he had apparently been sleeping. They also found several old Sonic cups filled with feces and urine. Additionally, the man appeared to have rigged the ceiling vents such that he was able to see into the woman’s bedroom. The only entrance to the attic is inside the home, in the hallway that connects the woman’s children’s bedrooms.

The woman has changed the locks, but she says that her children are still afraid to sleep in their bedroom.

The intruder remains at large.

***

3.

A woman has been arrested after living undetected in a man’s house for almost a year.

The resident of the house, who asked not to be named, believed he lived alone in his one-story house. When he noticed food disappearing from his refrigerator, he began to suspect that he was a victim of repeated burglaries. In an attempt to catch the perpetrators, he installed several security cameras that constantly transmitted images to his cell phone. On Wednesday, his security system recorded images of a woman in his home while he was out; the man contacted the police, who arrived at the property to perform an exhaustive search.

The woman was found hiding in the top of a built-in cupboard meant for the storage of bedding and other linens. The cupboard held a thin futon and a small collection of plastic drink bottles and was just large enough for the woman to lie down in.

She told police that she had first taken up residence in the house approximately one year ago, when the owner had left his home without locking the door. The cupboard was in a room the man rarely used, which may have contributed to his initial failure to detect his additional occupant; furthermore, no money or other valuable items went missing from the house, giving him no reason to suspect an intruder. The woman, who was described by police as looking neat and clean, did make use of the shower and toilet.

She was charged with trespassing.

***

I lied. About the game, that is. Maybe I should have called it “Three Truths and a Lie,” because the lie was the name of the game.

All three stories are true.

I’m sure I’m not alone when I say that the idea of someone living in my home without my knowledge terrifies me. It freaks me out in a different way than something like, say, Boothworld Industries does; in some ways, it’s even scarier.

One of the reasons we enjoy things like horror movies and high-octane haunted house attractions is that they allow us to experience fear in a relatively safe environment. Sure, we might be surrounded by terrifying things—but it isn’t real. Even if it’s “based on a true story,” offers a convincing example of the found footage genre, or ends with a dude with a chainsaw chasing us out onto the street… at the end of the day, we’re comfortable in the knowledge that it’s fiction.

Knowing, then, that these sorts of  stories—stories about people lurking in the dark corners of your home, stories that sound like they should exist only in movies or in a Shirley Jackson novel—are absolutely, 100 percent true? That’s a whole new level of creepy. And although each of these stories has a relatively happy ending—the intruder has been found out and the residents are safe—they could very easily, as stated by the university students, have been potentially scary situations. These facts take away our safety net.

The first story happened this fall in Columbus, Ohio. The students, who attend Ohio State University, discovered “Jeremy’s” existence in the middle of September. It seems like a given that someone renting a home to you would do things like change the locks between residents and check to make sure the house was actually vacant before you moved in.

In the words of Brett Mugglin, the comp sci major who accidentally met “Jeremy” once, their additional roommate “was a nice enough guy—he just wasn’t supposed to be there;” but that doesn’t change the fact that, in slightly different circumstances, the situation could have turned into a horror story. Mark Hartman, the 21-year-old civil engineering student who dealt with the media on behalf of his housemates, pointed out that “Two of the 10 roommates in our section of the house are girls and our rooms don’t have locks on the doors.”

The second story took place in Rock Hill, South Carolina in the fall of 2012. It’s The Strangers, with odd bumps in the night turning out to be just as scary as what the dark recesses of your mind imagine they might be. It’s Straw Dogs, with an old flame who just can’t give up the ghost taking control and leaving you powerless. And it’s Psycho, with a Norman Bates analogue spying on you while you sleep.

 The last story happened in Japan’s Fukuoka Prefecture in 2008. The woman was identified as 58-year-old Tatsuko Horikawa, and her cupboard was located in a traditional Japanese-style room the homeowner only used for special occasions. In some ways, this story is almost funny: To a Western audience, Horikawa’s tidiness is so counter to what we usually think of when we imagine squatters.

What if, instead of a relatively harmless woman who simply needed to put a roof over her head, the intruder had been an onryō, a ghost seeking vengeance for some horrible wrong done to it in life? Think Sadako Yamamura in the movie Ringu, or Samara in its English language adaptation: A version of the ghost Oiwa, with long, dark hair covering a horrific face and a drooping, malformed eye, stopping at nothing to drag you to hell with her. Or think of Kuchosake-onna, the Slit-Mouthed Woman, who, should you come upon her, will ask you whether you think she’s pretty. You’re damned no matter what you answer: If you say no, she’ll kill you; if you say yes, she’ll give you a Glasgow grin to match her own.

Now think back to that security camera footage the homeowner received on his cell phone and view it through that lens of cultural context. I don’t know about you, but if I had grown up with those stories and suddenly saw images of a strange woman walking around my house, I would have flipped. The fuck. Out.

But at least we have self-preservation hardwired into our brains and bodies. All of the people who found themselves in these strange-but-true situations realized that something was up and took measures against it. We can consider them real-life cautionary tales, but with their heroes triumphing at the end rather than meeting a grisly fate.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check my closets for false backs and make sure there are no other ways into the crawlspace in my kitchen.

Recommended Reading:

Students Find Mysterious Man Living in Their Basement

Mother of 5 Finds Man Living in Her Attic

Tokyo Homeless Woman Lived in Stranger’s Cupboard for a Year

Read more Scare Yourself Silly: There’s Someone in Your House (But It’s Not You) at The Toast.

enjoliras:

courfeyrac-yourbody:

do you ever stop and think about how high school musical and breaking bad take place in the same town

#BOP BOP BOP BOP TO THE TOP #SLIP AND SLIDE AND HIDE THAT CRYSTAL

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"Yoncé"/"Partition"
I mean, this is the song of our times. This is great. Everything about this is great. Literally every sentient being in the universe is credited on this song, although it sounds to me like a Timbaland joint. I hope that the person who wrote the line “I sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker” got paid many euros. The video is happening and it is great and retro. I myself have not performed (or, for that matter, received) fellatio in a limousine, so I will take her word for it that if Beyoncé herself were, indeed, performing it, it would require her going upon her knees, although it seems much simpler and, in point of fact, more discreet to simply lean over there and get to work. However, one has had the intelligence that her husband’s penis “could block the sun,” so she probably knows much better than anyone the logistical choreography required to get ‘r dunn in the back seat of any vehicle. Also: did everybody else know it was called the partition? I would have called it the divider, or perhaps the rood screen. And, further, the partition, I should think, was the entire dividing structure, whereas the thing she’s asking to be rolled up is just a window in the middle of it. It is also possible that limousine technology has improved since the last time I took one, which was two years ago in rural Québec. But this is neither here nor there; I was scared/excited when I saw in the track list that this song was going to be about Partition, as in, India/Pakistan, and that we would be treated to a mid-song rap by Gayatri Spivak herself, or like, chopped and screwed audio of Muhammad Ali Jinnah if Diplo already had Gayatri in the studio under some sort of exclusivity.

—Nico Muhly REVIEWED THE ENTIRE BEYONCÉ ALBUM TRACK BY TRACK, so if this is the only thing you read for the rest of 2013, you'll be Good 2 Go.

The post The Only Man You Need To Hear Discuss Beyoncé appeared first on The Awl.

Dear Polly,

So it's the Holidays again, which means everyone's going to come at you bitchin' about family. Let me throw my hat in the ring as a member of that (sizable) contingent. My mother and her husband live near where I grew up, about a seven-hour drive from where I live now. My father and his wife live out of state; I only see them twice a year or so. My two younger sisters both moved far out of state (to the same town no less) with their children within the past year and a half. The reason for this background—I'm the "only one left" close to visit my mother.

She's a sweet woman, but every time the holidays creep near, she starts in as the Cruise Director of a massive guilt trip. Why don't I (and my partner) stay with them for Christmas? "We have plenty of room! I'd love to see MY ONLY SON this Christmas. We can have Christmas Morning Together!!!" (Not exactly appealing. I'm coming into my late thirties and don't have children of my own.) This is a double squeeze as my birthday falls a mere two days after Our Good Lord Baby Jesus's (with whom she has a very, very close personal relationship).

It's not like I'm leaving her in a lonesome empty nest. Her husband has three grown children, all of whom have families of their own (my how the ChristFolk take that 'fruitful and multiply' line to heart). Most of them live close by, and she's surrounded with scores of kids and grandkids. The dinner is the long table of adults with two card tables full of rugrats, huge turkey with all the trimmings, massive tree, choir music; it's a dozens of prayers and invocations kind of holiday. It's a postcard Christmas, and I'm grateful that she has it. It's what she likes, and what she wants.

However, it's not how I (nor my partner) roll. We've been together for coming up on three years, and when the holidays come around, we just like to spend them quietly together. Go on vacation somewhere (often near where my mother lives, making turning her down all the more difficult). See friends. Drink and smoke and swear and be merry (all of which are verboten at my mother's domicile). We're Obama-loving, atheist, chimney smoking, whiskey swillers. To top it off, I'm a CIS straight dude and my partner is a female bi queer with an ex-wife. Imagine how that conversation with my mother went the first time around…. "So she's confused, then? Is she on drugs? Was she abused as a child? I should pray about this." My mother, her husband, and his entire brood are Born Agains. Nice, generous people who are always kind and sweet. But it's still uncomfortable; there is nothing to talk about, nothing to drink. And you have to watch your language for Chrissakes. Every third season or so, one of her husband's kids will challenge me to a debate on my atheism. Yeah. It's a really fun thing to discuss when there isn't a cigarette or a scotch around for miles. My partner thoroughly enjoyed all the ruckus in the household during the Prop 8 times, I'm sure.

Here's the final caveat. I'm happy to visit her around the Time of Christ's Mass. I've seen her every year since I was in college for the Holidays. I just have zero interest in the Events. The Big Meal, the Prayer, the 400 people in the house, all of them with little Jesus Spawn running around. In years past, I've even stayed the night. But since I've been in this wonderful relationship, I've wanted Christmas to be our thing, as a grownup adult couple. As such, we do not want to stay the night at her house (remember, the Good Lord requires us unmarried thirtysomethings to sleep in separate bedrooms for the duration). We'd have no cuddles for Christmas on her turf.

When I told my mother, gently but firmly (for now the third December in a row), that this is an adult vacation time for us as a couple and, since we have no children, Christmas morning holds no special magical allure, she told me I was being selfish (a very old, common retort from her) and that Christmas was "not about me." The implication is, of course, that it's about her, then. Again, we are totally going to be stopping by as I (and now with my partner, we) do every year. Again, I see this woman around the holidays every year. We just don't want to stay the night, do the Christmas Eve / Christmas Morning, Big Meal with Lots of Prayers thing. We want to stop by on the 23rd, or maybe the 26th, and spend the afternoon and have a quiet, small meal, and then drive back to our cozy hotel and fuck like the cute, secular, unmarried adult couple that we are. I explained this, (for now the third December in a row) thusly: "Mom, we'd love to see you this year, but as I've told you before, we don't feel comfortable staying the night at your house—particularly when you insist we have separate accommodations. We'd like to be in a hotel like usual." To this she said I was being "childish." She suggested I "grow up." Then things usually devolve into why I'm not married yet, and when am I going to get married, and why I don't have children yet, and when will that happen.

I keep having this conversation with her every goddamn year, Polly. And with my sisters now moved away, and as I get older (and still very secular, and still very unmarried, and still very much childless) the conversation gets more passionate, more unnerving. Her position becomes that much more intractable, and my response that much more hardened. It makes me want to fast forward to New Year's. It casts a shadow over our entire vacation. Because guess what the topic of discussion at the aforementioned quiet afternoon meal on the 23rd or so? "Why or why won't you STAY FOR CHRISTMAS?!?" I may be stubborn but I'm not soulless. The guilt works, Polly. Every January I feel like a Shitty Son.

Oh what to do?

Sincerely,

Fed Up at Xmas

Dear FUAX,

What you do at Christmas is definitely your personal choice. I understand why your mom's Norman Rockwell charade feels like a living nightmare for you and your partner. I can also understand not wanting to be pressured about marriage and kids, not wanting to pray and revel in the joy of Jesus's birthday. I get that it's asinine that you and your long-term lady would be consigned to different bedrooms. I understand the guilt and the defensiveness and anger that arise from this yearly showdown.

And yes, there's something depressing about being asked to assume this compliant, child-like role, to become one of a mob of Christians at a big table, nodding and yes-yesing and passing the gravy with a lot of people you don't care about and can barely even tolerate.

But, is the birth of Christ really so precious to you? Can you not fuck like cute, secular, unmarried adults every other night of the year? You need cuddle-time on this one magical night, or the suffering is immense—even though you don't remotely care about the holiday's significance?

As a mature adult, there are those rare, important moments when you are asked to show up, and pretend. You are asked to play an elaborate game of make-believe, for the sake of someone from another planet who nonetheless is a good person and made more than a few sacrifices on your behalf.

Now, if you were physically abused by your mother, or if she said things like, "See, son, I knew you'd never amount to shit"? That would be different. If you were gay and she rejected that and refused to accept your partner as part of your life? If she actively and aggressively fought against what you stand for? That would be one thing. Does her refusal to accept and acknowledge exactly who you are and how you choose to live hurt you to your soul? I'm not hearing that, but if that's the case, then, sure. Do your own thing, knowing that the pain of playing along with her charade would ruin your entire vacation.

But if you can simply step back and accept that you're two different people, with different quirks and beliefs and stubborn notions, if you can swallow her ridiculous rules and tolerate her tribe's idiotic lectures without feeling like your psyche is being violated and injured, if you can grasp that she wants a SYMBOLIC CHILD of hers to be there for the whole routine, for every prayer and invocation and celebratory breakfast and chaotic present-unwrapping, to demonstrate that she is loved and appreciated as a mother by at least one of her kids, then you should rise to the occasion and give your mother what she wants.

You should do it because your mother isn't battling you over your choices, day after day. She's not telling you, day after day, that you're doing it wrong. She wants you to get married and have kids, which makes her exactly like 99% of the mothers out there. Her wanting that doesn't make her particularly awful. If parenting brought her immense happiness, she naturally wants the same thing for you, as repetitive and closed minded as that might be.

Your mother doesn't fight with you all the time. Her primary battleground is Christmas. She wants this one thing from you. She wants it to an irrational extent. It makes her weepy and enraged. She wants you and your partner there, pretending that you fit right in. She wants you to pretend that you are a good Christian son. She knows that you aren't, but for 48 to 72 hours she wants you to pretend that you are.

Now, some people will tell you, "It's enough that you go and make an appearance." But that isn't the same thing. She wants you to stay under her roof, for emotional reasons. Do you know how it must feel, to be cooking and cleaning for your husband's kids and grandkids, when only one of your kids will even hang out at all, and he's only around for a few hours before he disappears? I'm not trying to give you shit, I'm just trying to make you see how lonely this holiday spectacular actually feels for her. You say you're grateful that she gets her postcard Christmas. But she doesn't really get that. It's only a postcard Christmas if her own kids are there, trust me.

Personally, I think you should give your mother exactly what she wants. Arrive on the night of the 23rd and stay until the evening of the 25th, then flee to a hotel room. I would push to stay in the same room as your partner, but I wouldn't make a stink about it if she refuses.

Sometimes love is about showing another human being every single part of you, and having that person accept and understand you completely. Other times, though, love is about caring enough about some insane, twisted, aggravating creature from another planet that you're willing to show up and play along with their insane, twisted, aggravating alien games. Sometimes love is about getting in the car with your partner, and, as you drive for seven hours, saying to each other, "We are about to eat a steaming platter of shit. We are going to eat it and eat it and we're going to act like it's delicious."

Some partners and girlfriends and wives will not agree to such a thing. I have a feeling your lady is special, and she'll feel proud of your decision to do this.

My dad was not an easy person. He had very strong opinions about what I should and shouldn't be doing with my life. He consistently referred to each of my boyfriends as "That Guy," as in "Why are you following That Guy across the country, anyway? Playing house is hell, you know. And what's the hurry? Why don't you stay here for a few years instead? What's so great about That Guy that you need to move 3,000 miles away?"

He was not all that tolerant of me or my thoughts or feelings. He would often get annoyed when I talked about myself or my life, so I mostly listened to him talk about his girlfriends, his travels, his dilemmas, whatever. The last time he visited me in San Francisco, I woke up at 7 a.m. three days in a row and picked him up from his hotel so we could go running along the beach, and then have breakfast together. 7 a.m. was like 3 a.m. to me then. I was hungover two of those mornings. I saw doing this as a major act of generosity on my part.

On his last night in town, we went out to a bar and had an early drink together. We ended up having a really good conversation, actually, maybe the first adult conversation, between equals, that we'd ever had. But I'd told my friends to come to the bar later on. When they showed up, I was anxious for my dad to leave. He could tell. He didn't want to leave. I could tell. I encouraged him to leave. I was nice about it, but I couldn't see us hanging out with my friends. Plus, I had a crush on one of the guys who'd shown up. I needed to focus my energies elsewhere.

My dad died three months later. I don't even know those other people anymore.

It was so important for me to have things my way back then. I saw everything I did for my dad as a massive sacrifice. Sure, my dad was tough. But he loved me and I loved him. Because he made me feel guilty a lot, though, I thought that every second I spent with him was ME doing HIM a favor. I had no idea that I was the one who was lucky to be there, to know him as an adult, to joke around, to have a few drinks, to get his perspective on the world, or just to sit back and appreciate his tweaked holding-forth on the state of things. I had no idea all of that was about to go up in smoke.

Sure, sometimes I played the SYMBOLIC CHILD when my siblings didn't want to do it. I flew to Johnstown, Pennsylvania to attend my grandfather's funeral, when no one else could go. I didn't have the money for a plane ticket, and I didn't want to fly on a small plane from Pittsburgh to Johnstown, because I was very afraid of small planes. When the pilot announced that we were about to land in "John Town." My dad and I looked at each other, stricken. The pilot had never fucking landed a plane there before. The airport was on top of a mountain, and that day it was shrouded in fog.

The pilot missed the runway on the first pass, and had to circle around and try again. My father and I were quiet and pale and gulping like fish. I got off the plane and had to lie down for a minute, just to keep from throwing up. Then we drove down the mountain and arrived in a small, crowded room with my grandfather's corpse, which was wearing foundation and bright pink blush.

That trip was not fun while it was happening. My dad drove really fast, and our political views clashed, and he didn't exactly respect my opinions, unless I was analyzing one of his girlfriends' personalities. But now I feel so grateful that I was there. We didn't have much time left. How does that Bowerbirds song go? "Though I could not know then, we'd have but few times like these."

Parent-child relationships are so bewildering and heartbreaking, almost across the board. We try hard to do right by our parents, but after a while we feel like we've done enough, like we need to make our own choices and get some distance.

But when I think of the years I've wasted, wanting my mother to conform to my expectations of her instead of just accepting her limitations, it makes me sad. For years I wanted her to understand and embrace me completely, even though I wasn't doing the same for her. I could've just shown up and played along and not taken every single thing personally, for her sake. Instead, I got lost in my own anger and frustration that things couldn't be different, that we couldn't be together on MY terms.

It's hard not to take your parents personally. Maybe impossible. Your mother is seriously taxing. I get that. And if you spend the night, you may think, over and over: WHY AM I DOING THIS? At times you may feel glum and despondent. All of your shit from the past is likely to come up.

But it will also be VERY INTERESTING, won't it? You will learn a few things about yourself, and your mother, and your partner.

You'll have to be content to play the good son and observe and stay calm. During the day, you'll go out on a walk or a jog or a hike with your partner, and you'll talk about your crazy mother and her crazy stepchildren at length. And after it's all over, as you're driving away to the second half of your vacation, which will include lots of cuddling and sex and drinking and smoking, you and your partner will laugh together at your mother's irritating tics.

But why not give her this gift, all the same? What you don't know yet is that this Christmas insanity is also YOUR reward. This is you, experiencing your mother's twisted joyful oddities on HER terms for once, and it's a gift to you. Because it'll be good for your heart and your soul and your memories.

Honestly, I think you're in conflict over this visit because your heart is telling you to stay overnight at her house, for her sake, even though it's fucking purgatory. Your intellect says DO WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT. YOU'RE AN ADULT. FUCK HER AND HER SHITTY NOTIONS OF GOD AND FAMILY. But your heart believes that you should be there on Christmas, the way she wants you to be.

I would pitch this plan to your partner: Crazy Christian Christmas, nutty mom, pesky kids, heteronormative nightmare, followed by alone time with you for five days in a nice hotel. She'll sigh heavily. But I bet she'll think it's really mature and generous of you, to want to do this for your mom. I bet she'll know that it'll be really interesting and weird and funny and good for both of you, to suffer through this together and bite your tongue and be as pleasant as possible.

And I bet that, once you commit to this, you'll feel better. You will feel proud of yourself.

If you know for sure that you are incapable of this, that it will scar you too deeply, well, that's your call, not mine. But you should ask yourself, "Which choice offers the richest experience possible? Which choice will make my life the most interesting and adventurous? Which choice will be the most memorable?" I will never forget that crazy trip I took to Johnstown. Even though it was taxing, it's one of my most vivid memories I have of my father and his family and his hometown. Even though your family visits are excruciating, if you throw yourself into the spirit of it and try very hard to play with little children and chat with God-fearing cousins and help your mom make the mashed potatoes, I think you'll be changed by it. People will annoy you and make you angry and you'll have to work hard not to argue and say the wrong thing. But once it's over, you will feel good about your ability to rise above your own needs and give of yourself like this.

But look, even if you don't go, you should resolve to stop arguing with your mom. She won't become a different person, or start listening to what you're saying out of the blue. She's getting older, and less flexible. Will her mind still be sharp in ten years? Will she be able to cook a turkey? Will all of those families that come to her house eventually stay at home instead? In a few years, will your mom be widowed, living in some rest home in another state, near one of your sisters? Appreciate what you have right now. Appreciate her for who she is, right now, with all of her limitations and flaws. Watch her in your company, and witness how much she loves you, how much you matter to her.

I'm sure you feel angry that I'm asking you to do this, that I'm adding to the guilt you already feel, when you were hoping I'd tell you to tell her to fuck off instead. It probably makes you feel a little sick just thinking about doing this. And it'll be easy enough for you to find some friend who'll tell you that you should do whatever the fuck you want for Christmas.

But you might not have that many years left to play the good kid. It actually feels good to play that role. It's a role, sure, and maybe it's not perfectly in line with your most authentic self. But it's a generous thing. You can play it once a year, can't you? You can put every ounce of your love for her into it, and you can play that role like you fucking mean it. Love is not JUST about being accepted for exactly who you are. Sometimes love is about accepting someone else, first and foremost, and giving them exactly what they need. I don't think you'll regret that. Twenty years from now, I think you'll look back and say, "I'm really glad I gave her that."

My dad died almost 20 years ago, and I still think about running along the San Francisco Bay with him. I didn't know that would be the last day I'd ever see his face or hear his voice. I'm really glad I didn't sleep in instead.

Polly

Are you freaking out about the holidays? Write to Polly and she'll fix you a nice homemade knuckle sandwich.

Heather Havrilesky (aka Polly Esther) is The Awl's existential advice columnist. She's also a regular contributor to The New York Times Magazine, and is the author of the memoir Disaster Preparedness (Riverhead 2011). She blogs here about scratchy pants, personality disorders, and aged cheeses. The terrible Santa is by Dan Century.

The post Ask Polly: My Mom Keeps Guilting Me About Visiting For Christmas! appeared first on The Awl.

Okay, so you had something traumatic happen to you yesterday. But before we get into the incident itself, can you set the scene? Where were you? Who was present?

It was me and my CEO in his office. We were on a conference call on speaker phone with someone who was interviewing him.

So this was an enclosed space?

Yes, it’s a small office.

And we should point out that you are new to this job, correct?

Yes, six weeks in, still getting to really know the CEO.

And what do you do at this new job?

Well at a startup it’s hard to really nail down, but for the most part: Executive Assistant to the CEO.

Ok so you are in your boss’s office, new to the job, you’re flattered he’s included you in the call. Someone is on speaker phone interviewing him and you’re listening intently, a little nervous someone will ask you a question, wondering if you should chime in…Then what happens?

I farted OUT LOUD. And I have to point out that the interview was only scheduled for one hour, and it happened about two minutes after that allotted hour.

So what you’re saying is technically the hour was over and you should have been already back to your own desk, farting in safety?

Exactly.

But wait. You farted out loud. HOW LOUD?

Loud enough!

No, we need more. What did it sound like? Was it a squeaker, did it bellow?

It was more like a quick, high pitched-pop.

A monosyllabic pop?

Yes. See, I made three-bean chili the night before for the first time…

And you knew you had this call? Rookie mistake.

Well I can handle having gas, but the kind that literally comes out with no warning — no one can prepare for that.

Oh my god. So what did you do — what went through your mind?

“Oh shit.” Not literal shit, I knew I hadn’t shit my pants. But my face got hot and I started to nervous-sweat.

Did you immediately look away or did you look at your boss to see if he saw?

I looked down at my laptop and then looked at him, he was the one talking when the incident occurred so he was distracted.

Oh man. Are you sure? Or maybe you’d prefer not to think about it.

I think he could have just played it off like he didn’t hear but hopefully he was so concentrated at getting his point across that it was tuned out.

I was mostly worried about laughing hysterically out loud and then not being able to stop

Oh my god, maybe that would have been better. But then the person on the call might be like, “What’s so funny?” and your boss would have to say, “Apologies. My assistant farted.”

I may have added a couple coughs in there and noises to offset the fart.

Oh that’s smart. Good strategy.

Nothing too over the top of course. That would just bring attention.

Of course. But wait! Most important question: did it smell?!

No! Thank god!

Someone must have been watching over you that day. Yesterday.

Yeah, I guess in that small space I would prefer a loud fart that could squeak by rather than a SBD where you really could not get away with it

Oh my god. And you both try to pretend it’s not happening…

No, luckily the CEO is very cool/funny. I am pretty much myself 100% of the time, including my sometimes inappropriate humor. I honestly think if he heard it (he probably heard it) AND knew for sure it was a fart, he would have started laughing.

So were it not for the conference call you would have been like, “Um I farted”?

Hmm no, but if I thought he definitely knew I would just laugh out loud and be fine with it.
Embarrassed, but fine with it.

Actually, that brings me to my next question. Do you think there will be a time down the road when you and your boss fart in front of each other openly, without shame?

NO. Meaghan, I don’t think anyone should just fart for fun in front of their boss. Haha. I would not be fine just letting it rip in front of him, but if it happened just the two of us, sans the professional manner of the call we were on, I would just have been less embarrassed.

That is an important clarification. I appreciate that. So to wrap up, not that I couldn’t talk about this all day: Do you have any words of wisdom for those of us who might find us in your situation in the future?

Sure. If you are found out, just own it — I was ready to. I was definitely about to gchat my friend and tell them what happened right then and there but I stopped myself, knowing that it would make me die of laughter. It was like that feeling when I was younger at Mass — you know you are supposed to be being respectful and quiet, one funny thing will have you laughing uncontrollably. So, I am glad I waited to share the embarrassing story until I returned to my desk and I would recommend the same to others.

Solid advice. Well thank you for sharing. A fart in your honor!

Also I hear if you soak your beans overnight, it helps with the aftermath!

I will pass that along to our readers. Thank you.

Photo: banjo d

The Gowanus Whole Foods opened this morning, at 3rd Avenue and 3rd Street in Brooklyn (midway between Park Slope and Carroll Gardens, for you Manhattanites), with a bench-laden parkway along the Gowanus Canal, a hot hipster-manned knife-sharpening station, copious espresso machines, a giant over-sized novelty baguette (WHY IS THIS BREAD SO BIG?), giant hanging hogs, a rooftop beer garden, an enormous greenhouse, and just more of everything than you can possibly imagine. It was mobbed with shoppers within minutes of opening.

Much yogurt. So organic. Wow. Etc.

Just pretend there are stupid captions on each of these photos that are like "Wow the doors slide open when you approach but then close behind you as if by magic." And "there are a large number of all kinds of people waiting behind cash registers"! But yeah. You've been to a Whole Foods before. It has food in it. (My God, it's full of food.) Although perhaps you haven't been to a Whole Foods with a beer tap room and a lovely meandering parkway alongside a toxic canal….

The post The Insane Whole Foods Gowanus Is Open For Your Gentrifying Needs appeared first on The Awl.

Dear employers,

I will have to take the day off today because:

☐ It’s December and the streets are papier-mached with wet bronze leaves and it’s so dark outside that the cars have their headlights on at 3pm

☐ I have recently been through a breakup, or I have been through a breakup at any time in my life really, and I woke up today with the absolute conviction that I will never be loved again

☐ A dog looked at me

☐ I got a text from someone for whom I feel a mix of concern and frustration and recognition and longing that is both more and less than romance

☐ Someone made a joke about dead pets meeting you in heaven

☐ Daylight savings time

☐ I passed a knot of flowers that were so bright they glowed through the dim grey water of the day and when was anything in my life last that luminous?

☐ Girls are too pretty

☐ For the first time I genuinely comprehend that there is not enough time to have all the lives I wanted

☐ I accidentally listened to Leonard Cohen

I am submitting the following documentation:

☐ A scrap of an old lover’s favorite flannel shirt

☐ Trembling cupped hands full of rainwater

☐ Light angling over the face of a brownstone at 4 on a winter afternoon

☐ A blunt-edged ticket stub from a movie of which I remember nothing except how soft her hands were

☐ A crumbling copy of my favorite novel from childhood

☐ The universe

☐ The peachy glow of a sodium lamp far ahead down an icy pitch-dark path

I think I just need to:

☐ Stare at a cup of tea held in nerveless fingers and slowly leaching heat

☐ Watch the sun glow ruby through the dogwood leaves until I regain some capacity to be comforted by beauty

☐ Read old emails from someone who loved me because he knew nothing

☐ Move to Omaha without telling anyone and find work as a sympathetic bartender named Roxy

☐ Learn to live alongside the fundamental meaningless of existence, not just mine but everyone’s

☐ Get a drastic haircut

☐ Listen to Tegan and Sara’s “Heartthrob” on repeat for 24 hours

☐ Scream into a pillow until my throat feels like it’s going to split

I will be back to work once:

☐ I can get out of this empty bathtub

☐ It is spring

☐ Someone gorgeous has brought me warm milk

☐ The consequences of being terribly drunk start to seem more grim than the consequences of not being terribly drunk

☐ I have watched every episode of Key & Peele

Sincerely,

________

Read more Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today at The Toast.

tyleroakley:

Iconic.

in a little over 24 hours Beyoncé’s newly released visual album BEYONCÉ has sold over 400,000 copies in the US from iTunes digital sales only, Billboard reports. For comparison sake, Katy Perry’s PRISM sold 286,000 copies in its first WEEK including full physical and digital release; Lady Gaga’s ARTPOP 258,000 copies first week; Miley’s album Bangerz 270,000 copies; Britney Jean 107,000 copies. BEYONCÉ is expected to debut at #1 with around 600,000 copies sold.

1. Stanley Tucci.

2. Stanley Tucci’s teeth.

3. How you see even more of Stanley Tucci’s perfect teeth when he bares them and throws his head back to laugh appreciatively.

4. Mechanical death-mandrills are not the problem. Non-human primates are the problem, and they WILL come for us, and the fact I predicted it will give me little pleasure as I’m eaten or placed in an elaborate fortress to live out my days in torment and regret.

5. Never let your cardio slip, guys. Never. You think you’re out, but you need to be ready at any and all times to be thrown in a death arena with a handful of amped-up career Crossfitters who have also killed a bunch of people.

6. Peeta was less annoying in this movie.

7. Gale is pretty hot.

8. Femlash Friday request: Katniss/Jena Malone’s character.

9. I am exactly brave and nice enough to be Effie Trinket, and no more.

10. Like, being Cinna would be way too brave.

11. CINNA (cries forever)

12. Okay, though, there’s a little bit too much white-saviour stuff, right?

13. Then again, the fact the filmmakers mostly stuck to Collins’ obvious efforts to have racially diverse characters resulted in some epic shit-fits from idiots, so you win some you lose some, I guess.

14. But, no, the SEA of black people in District 11 being super-grateful to Katniss for not killing a little girl was a bit much.

15. I don’t understand why everyone didn’t have sex constantly during training or while in transit (both movies.)

16. Because, right, either you’re going to be dead in a week, or you’ll be mega-rich and in a basically consequence-free enivronment.

17. Live a little! “Tubes up in ten minutes.” “Cinna, you want to go for it, or what?”

18. Jeffrey Wright is the best part of everything he touches.

19. I don’t know if I could even be Effie. I think I could be a sponsor who sends Katniss something, and then feels really good about having done so and made sure their friends knew about it.

20. If you’re going to tell me someone had their teeth filed into points so she could rip out her enemies’ throats, I damn well better see that bitch rip out someone’s throat.

21. This movie was great.

Read more A Few Thoughts on The Hunger Games: Catching Fire at The Toast.

Americans’ obsession with the furry creature is “almost impossible to believe,” according to one Chinese newspaper:

This was no passing remark: The Dec. 4 article in the Communist Party paper Beijing Youth Daily stood out among China’s sometimes shoddily-researched, state-run media with its convincing,sourced points. The paper noted that Chinese pandas on loan to the zoo in Washington, D.C. have drawn visitors from around the country, and that even frequent treks to see the pandas at the zoo “could not satisfy the demand” of the American people, some of whom watch the adorable symbols of US-China friendship online via a newly-installed Giant Panda Cam. Pandas “easily find their way into the pages of major,mainstream U.S. papers,” wrote the paper with evident amazement, “on their birthdays, 100-day celebrations, or even when they get headaches.”

America’s panda obsession – US-based news agency UPI reported the then-unnamed BaoBao’s uneventful first check-up on Aug. 25 – has long fascinated and bewildered Chinese people. In Feb. 2010, the major news site China Youth Online reported that Chinese found it “hard to understand” why fans in the United States were “brokenhearted” over the return to China of a giant panda named Tai Shan. Villagers living just miles from Tai Shan’s new home in central Sichuan province, the article pointed out, did not care: One of the bear’s new neighbors told China Youth Online that despite his proximity to the panda center, he had only seen the animals on television, explaining, “They have nothing to do with my life.” In an attempt to explain foreigners’ fixation with China’s national symbol, the article observed that pandas are objectively “adorable,” and also that the online broadcast of Tai Shan’s birth may have led its many US viewers to feel a connection to the cub.

(Photo of the National Zoo’s newly named panda cub “Bao Bao” by Abby Wood)

_{"Ain’t got no doctor or pill that can take the pain away. The pain’s  inside and nobody frees you from your body. It’s the soul that needs surgery."}

"You want me? I want it done my way. You like it? The bedroom’s my runway Slap me! I’m pinned to the doorway Kiss, bite, fuck me."