Thong scrofula

I should really add punctuation between those two words, but their combination is repulsive and delightful.

I came across this atrocity of a product in the drug store today and was duly appalled.
Is there actually demand for such a contraption? I mean, aside from the IRONY that you add this big, bulky thing to your almost-nonexistent underwear... adding to discomfort... giving you awkward lines that will certainly show through your pants... it reminds me of an SNL sketch (#30 here). I know I've posted about this before, but why is the "feminine hygiene" part of industry -- consumerism, advertising, "educational material" -- so out-of-whack? And again, why is it not balanced by some ridiculous counterpart product directed at males?


This post's featured quote is from one of the recent flurry of organizational, inquiring, instructional, information-filled emails about my upcoming group expedition to Africa. C. directs us simply and purposefully:

No one bring scrofula.

Fiction allows us to...

I read a story earlier this week which featured an especially haunting and disturbing description of rape. It reminded me of this:

Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through these other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives. (Neil Gaiman, American Gods, pp. 411)

This post's theme word: minatory, "baleful; threatening or forshadowing evil/tragic developments."