How to Resist Entropy

Deep thoughts on Fat Princess, part I

2008-07-29T14:24:38Z

So I was scanning the headlines and what did I see? "Feminists cry foul over Fat Princess." (Article provided in its entirety below.)

You know I'm going to read something that begins with "Feminists cry foul," for I am immensely fond of feminists crying foul.

Interesting hook for the story, guiding people to think that feminists are the only people who would be, or should be, offended by its subject (what about fat princesses? what about fat activists? what about fat people? what about people who are terrified of becoming fat? what about thin people? what about polite people? men who ride scooters? People in general? Does Ben Silverman care about their delicate sensibilities? Harrumph). Must admit I admire skillful propaganda technique--kudos to you, B.S.

This article fascinates me.

It scares me too, for obvious reasons, which I'll articulate later for the uninitiated. But before I get my silky (Fat) (Princess) panties in a twist, I need to know so much more about the game that is the focus of this article.

Let's put on our deconstruction caps.

We'll work with the information we have through B.S.'s filter. (Sorry to foul up your formatting, B.S., but it's my journal and I'll bold if I want to.)

She's plump, powerful and ready to cause more controversy than "SuperSize Me."

Heh. Nothing wrong with those three attributes.

"...you can thwart capture attempts by locking the once-thin princess in a dungeon and stuffing her full of cake..."

Which is the most alarming portion of this idea? There's a smorgasbord of options:

Locking her away?
Morphing into the Other?
Transforming the once-thin from their (sometimes) precariously maintained state?
Evoking one of the most pervasive nightmares our collective unconsciousness can concoct?
Force-feeding? (And--this is important--by whose hand?)
The taboo of plumpness, roundness, curved folds of flesh, in other words...FAT?
The forbidden and fetishy quality of cake (hmm...that does make me hungry)
The taboo of a woman so large, so heavy, so immensely present--that one's (male?) enemies cannot dislodge her?

O black hole of huge fatness!! O inexorable sucking pull of the vagina!! Better hold on tight, my tiny ones...you too will be assimilated back into Momma.

End Part I.

Feminists cry foul over Fat Princess

Does Sony's cartoony castle game cross the line?

By Ben Silverman

She's plump, powerful and ready to cause more controversy than "SuperSize Me."

She's Fat Princess, the star of Sony's upcoming video game of the same name. Debuting at last week's E3 expo, the colorful Fat Princess is a capture-the-flag game with a twist: you can thwart capture attempts by locking the once-thin princess in a dungeon and stuffing her full of cake, thereby increasing her girth and making her harder for your enemies to haul back to home base.

According to popular gaming blog Joystiq, two feminist gaming sites have already voiced their displeasure with the weighty issue.

VIEW SCREENS

Feminist Gamer's "Mighty Ponygirl" rings in diplomatically, suggesting a new way to play the game altogether.

"Instead of running out into the forest to find cake to fatten up the princess with, why not go out and find gold (which is a lot heavier than cake) to stuff into a treasure chest. The more gold in the chest, the heavier it would be, and the harder it would be to carry," she said, before adding, "Oh, but that's not as "cute" as cake and fat chicks. Right."

Over at Shakesville, however, writer Melissa McEwan cuts to the chase, telling Sony she's "positively thrilled to see such unyielding dedication to creating a new generation of fat-hating, heteronormative ***holes."

Sony has yet to issue an official response, although Joystiq did receive a particularly informative update from James Green, Fat Princess' lead art director, who clued gamers in on the origins of the game:

"Does it make it better or worse that the concept artist (who designed the look, characters, everything) is a girl?"

Hmmm...hope the game's detractors don't mind eating a bit of crow.

The third entity

2008-06-25T12:55:48Z

So...did you ever notice that the attributes of yourself you express can vary depending on to whom you are expressing them?

There is a notion that there are three entities involved in any relationship. Not just an erotic or romantic relationship - any "ship" in which two folks are relating - whether it be the Love Boat, Queen Mary or the Titantic. There is the "I" entity that is yourself, the "You" entity that is the other person, and the "We" entity created when the two of you coincide and your energies blend.

My brother (shout out to Mick!) deplores this theory, so fiercely independent is he. He needs to keep his "I" intact (it is, after all, fun and games until someone loses an eye). Same with my intrepid sister and mother. I am mighty fond of my "I" as well, but need to experience myself in many ways through the lens of the "We" entity.

Here is where it is immensely helpful to know and learn about yourself as well as possible. If you know yourself, you can clearly and unapologetically represent your interests to the We. Otherwise, it can be a fumbling and choppy enterprise at best, and ...well..the Titantic at worst. I consider these worthy questions:

What do you NEED as basic minimum requirements of your relationship?
What do you WANT as the environment of your day-to-day life?
What is EXTRA, the icing on the cake, the surprise you never expected but which delights you?
What do you BRING to a relationship?

Sometimes I think I try way too hard to find the positive in a situation, overlooking the immovable qualities of the I/You/We habitats. Other times I think I cut off possibilities too soon. Only time will tell, as they say.

My theory is that, over time, that which is life-affirming and makes you feel good should outweigh the vexations, the petty crimes "We" commit. Can you "live with" the third entity that is your relationship? Is it in alignment or at cross-purposes with your life's goals? Do you like the We?

Don't resign yourself to whatever happens to come along. Who if not I/You/We are the creators of our lives?

Love in many forms

2008-04-26T17:17:08Z

The gift of not being mated is of, perforce, recognizing the existence of Love in many forms and concentrations.

For example, in my current job, I resort much more often than I should to getting fast food from a drive-through window and eating it in my car rushing to my next destination. This has given me the opportunity to observe a wider variety of people than I encounter at work. I notice eye contact, attention to actual communication versus expected communication, tone of voice, attitude, and responsiveness.

I get pleasure from those encounters when the drive-through server looks me in the eye as he or she hands me my food, and the "Have a Nice Day" is sincere. It seems a mini-dose of Love, evidence of the existence of universal love energy buzzing gently around.

I have an idiosyncrasy (at first I typed idio-synchronicity, which I'm sure is a different thing altogether) born of my own need: I attempt to recognize everyone who addresses me. What do I mean by recognize? I mean that I try to be there in present time and space with that person, even if to do so I have to energetically shield myself. (This presents certain predictable problems, but I digress.) It is as though I wish to "say," Look! We are here together, incarnated on this weird sphere, playing out our human experiences. Isn't this strange and sublime?!" I am not always like this, of course. Like everyone I am distracted by my own ego, the occupations of which seem terribly important.

I suppose this is my way of trying to have compassion for the fact that we are all on an evolutionary or (to be fair) involutionary path, and the fact that your car eased in front of mine in traffic probably has more to do with your need to get somewhere on time than your need to cause me specific, personal humiliation and distress.

My first childhood memory is of...

2008-04-25T02:23:01Z

...swinging.

It was winter. I was bundled in a blanket like a papoose and crammed (carefully, I'm sure) into one of those metal infant swings municipal parks had then—before the days it was considered necessary that every family possess their own backyard kiddie pool and "jungle gym."

My family lived in an apartment in Chicago’s Rogers Park; the place my mother took me must have been Portage Park (for years I heard Porridge Park and thought of bland, steaming bowls of mush).

Which did I prefer? The push forward, up into the delirious blue sky almost? Or the plummet in my gut on the backswing--blind freefall into oblivion but saved at the last moment? Heart soaring, dashed, then soaring again. It had to be both: the strange thrill of feeling contained yet imperiled, wild and safe.

What is your very first memory?

Language is as sexy as these Pucci pumps

2008-01-01T17:10:09Z

Take the word quiescent. This morning I was thinking that my creativity had been quiescent. Then I became enraptured with the very sound of the word.

What is it about the "kwee" sound that seems secret and forbidden, and the "ess" syllable reminds me of nothing so much as a figure falling into a reclining position.

What are some of your favorite words...and why?

A little more moist (2)

2007-12-30T16:19:56Z

For a time I was fixated on titles, so I decided to name things with a random number so I could get more quickly to the substance underneath the title. Unfortunately, I never got around to renaming this exercise.

4

in her vision the air is spangled with whorls of insects

dragonflies alight and balance on the buttery tips of wheat

the grasses undulate, give off their sweet smoke

and her toes wriggle in mud like grubs

in her vision the one who comes to her is guiltless and unterrified

wishes to be under her tyranny and none other

And spreading her clothes on a patch of dandelions

she makes a nest and lays down her other

she will take, the other will give

and the two will blur like down and spore, down and spore:

a minute secret carried by the wind and scattered for whomever

and the two do not mind, they are generous.

Really have to marvel

2007-12-08T16:20:57Z

...at Whomsoever Drives This Bus. Particularly with regard to the olfactory. No, not the Ol' Factory. The sense of smell, the schnaz if you get my point!

Is it not rather amazing that our noses want to breathe in certain smells: scent of baby, vanilla, cinnamon, sexual musk; and balk from others such as aged beer on linoleum, putrefaction, fecal matter? How about those smells that are not necessarily life-affirming such as gasoline, skunk, or ripened cheese that some of us nonetheless love to smell?

Esoteric wisdom considers the sense of smell to be occupied with discriminating, "perfecting the interrelation between the Self and the not-self." * Only someone with a Virgo sun sign would use footnotes in her journal. So as I am smelling you, I am also drawing molecules of you inside of me. And I didn't even buy you dinner first. We are interrelating.

Little wonder that we (especially those of us who were raised in the U.S. and Canada) take such pains to avoid being smelled: showering, deodorizing, douching, powdering, spritzing, masking with other, stronger scents such as perfume, cologne, scented hairspray. What are we saying--that we don't want to interrelate? Or that we want to be perceived as other than we are?

Some of my favorite non-human things with which to interrelate (smell): My cat Fiona's fur, especially after she's been sunning herself on the balcony; peppermint, grapefruit/lemon/lime/orange zest; geraniums, roses, gardenias; meat being grilled; popcorn; cut green apples; bleached cotton; coffee!

What do you love to smell? What do you hate to smell?

* Source: A Treatise on Cosmic Fire, Alice A. Bailey