(WARNING: Contains disturbing sexual and violent content suitable for mature audiences only.) A chilling work of genius that got me vlogging after a hiatus of several months, the Emmy-award-winning, Hulu series, The Handmaid’s Tale, exaggerates and magnifies the insidious dynamics of present-day society, to bring home the profound power imbalance between men and women which, until now, remains a backdrop of, at best, silent oppression and, at worst, potential violence. Unlike Orwell’s 1984, this work isn’t predictive or even dystopian. IT’S NOW. Indeed, it’s so true that any menstruating girl will find its home truths ineluctable.
My first full day back in Cincinnati, Ohio after more than 35 years, with Sam and my brother. We visit all the places which defined — and traumatized — us, the places which were the crucibles of my, if not our, personality. Sam told me that the best thing about this trip was getting to know his uncle James and me more — by listening to us revisit our childhood and experiences.
It ain’t easy being married to an angry and reluctant Luddite: the husband insists on using checks, can’t understand why computers don’t come with manuals and it takes him ages to complete online forms because he never learned to type; I try be sympathetic because a grey tsunami will inundate the UK soon and many older people will be helpless when confronted with today’s online, self-service economy; one of the benefits of being a Luddite, if such a thing can exist, is being able to watch something grow over a very long span of time, say, ten years, in the garden, something a young person cannot relate to at all these days; since we’re on the topic of housekeeping, I wanted to clarify my objection to cleaning and housekeeping. It is a philosophical and ethical one. Cleaning is a form of continuous reinstatement of the past. There is a major opportunity cost to such an activity. If you devote all your time and energy to constantly putting your house back in order — to the way it was before (clean versus dirty), you don’t very well have any time left over with which to learn and discover new things and experiences; in a related observation: have you ever noticed that there are only two kinds of people – people who trot out experiences and anecdotes from the past and people who never do that (preferring to keep their eyes and mind on what’s ahead of them)? I book my favorite restaurant in London, the Greenhouse, despite the fact that they were guilty of a hygiene infraction last year; like a good wife, I plan my itinerary in London tomorrow based on John’s preferences instead of my own, meaning that our day will be devoted to traditional, not contemporary, culture and exhibitions; that’s not to say that I don’t love old things. But that I’m always seeking out new experiences and objects which ill expand my mind. Old paintings don’t pass that test 98% of the time; similarly, and to cite another binary character typology: have you noticed that there are only two kinds of people, the first kind will seek to return to a favorite place again and again, whereas the opposite types avoids visiting the same place twice, even if he or she likes it a lot; while there’s no doubt that technology increases the quantum of our output, does it actually enhance brain function — or diminish it? Don’t buy Green & Black ice cream, it’s too aerated without any scrumptious, enlivening sparks of flavor; John sees me posting my negative comments about the ice cream and we have an altercation, with him saying that British people will never like me because I’m too confrontational and obnoxious; I ignore him completely; that’s the thing about Brits, they prefer to put up and shut up in public while fuming and seething about it in private. I’ll never understand, let alone condone, that.
My diet has change dramatically since I moved to England, from rice, meat and vegetables to potatoes, bread and tons of cheese and dairy. It means I have to work out twice as much to avoid becoming a big cow; my husband has such white man eating habits: he can’t handle eating meat or fish on a bone; sorry if my stories have been prosaic lately, I’m entitled to be boring from time to time. Plus, you have to remember that I’m using stories to diarize my life :(( ; one thing about living in the countryside: My life and happiness are entirely dependent on one person, my husband. Therefore, my days go up and down depending on his mood. Most days, it’s no problem. But his grumpiness can definitely torpedo my day; the brain begins to shrink at the age of thirty.
Slowly realising that I live in England – FINALLY – after one year; workout clothes shouldn’t be worn unless you’re actually working out; thank GOD I no longer have to care about the jewellery industry; any opinion on Tyrell’s versus Kettle Chips? I bought both brands as part of my junk food stash in order to conduct a taste test; everything in the countryside takes twice as long because of the obligatory chit chat factor; I generally equate overcommunication with low native intelligence; ditto for repeating one’s self: I deplore it; one of the main reasons I can’t stand hanging out with single women desperate for a boyfriend is because all they do is talk about the same thing, over and over again, violating the cardinal rule I just stated; I love vlogging because it enables me to bitch about things in the abstract without pointing the finger at a particular individual; if you’re one of my female friends who recognises yourself in my comments, now you know why I haven’t talked to you very much in the past few years; my least favourite conversation with a single woman is, “Do you think he really likes me?”; amazing layout on the home page of Simon Aeppli. Then again, maybe it was the startling image! My favorite go-to resource for social media news, Tatiana Platt, shared a great post about the top ten mistakes on Instagram; and I’m definitely guilty of #10 because my main concern is thoroughly updating and optimising my own website.