purely anthropological (or: is that Rasputin in your pocket...?)

The ladies, they scream and shout for Rasputin, and I can see why. As can you, if you follow that link to the story, compleat with picture, about one of the more popular artifacts at a Russian erotica museum. (It reminds me of a certain box some dumpster diving friends produced in Madison. But, alas, probably no biographical insert detailing the golden porn at the end of the rainbow with this one!)

I'd also post a link to the lyrics of Boiled in Lead's "Rasputin," clearly the best song ever about "Russia's greatest sex machine" (thanks to the immortal rendering by Adam Stemple), but every time I try to access the only page I could find with them my computer shuts down. I wouldn't want it to happen to you. So, just remember kids: "Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Hey! Hey! Hey!" (If Mr. McLaren, to whom I owe this link, can somehow tell me how to access those lyrics, I will certainly add them.)

Two other small things:

Started reading Lucasta Miller's The Bronte Myth this morning and was nearly thrown into the not-that-deep, too-bright-sunny pit of despair by early references to Charlotte's belief that genius would out and that writing shouldn't be work but all inspiration or not worth doing. (Yes, I'm overstating. A little -- I'll dig out the quotations later and put them up here.)

(Although I like her: "Let your performance do the thinking.")

But anyway, I encountered this John Sayles quote, which served as the antidote:

"Someone told me that there are two kinds of writers. There's the
ones who write until they can't find a word, and then they sit around
for two days until they get the right word. And, there's the kind who
will leave a blank and go back and fill it in. I leave a blank. I will
sometimes write a page or two and make a note, 'Better stuff than this.'"

Better stuff than this. That's what I'm doing right now. I wish I was the other kind. (Our whole house is clean. All the books that have been stacked along our anthology section, which is on top of the bookshelves lining the hallway, have been shelved. It's THAT clean. So, where is my sense of accomplishment, damn it?)

Also, from the delightful Tingle Alley news of a wonderful special issue of Scientific American that I must possess!

I believe that is all. As everybody but everybody has probably seen the NYTimes story on how writing couples relate, aimed at advising Bill and Hillary. Poor, Gray Lady, don't you know what couple this is? Sigh.

UPDATED with one last thing... Karen's book (at no. 7 this week) has finally passed Bergdorf Blondes on the NYTimes Bestseller List. Dan Brown, get out your boxing gloves.

worm "Mass Romantic," New Pornographers

check out BiL's Alloy

namecheck Adam "Is 3 Solid Blows Enough?" Stemple