ON ACCEPTING THE FRENCH IDEA OF GENIUS:

Think about how brilliant this is, and how difficult it must have been! This video for “Hibi no Neiro” (Tone of everyday) by Sour was done entirely via the webcams of fans. It's so pretty and fabulous and clever that I thought I had to share.

Click the pic to go to the flickr page and see more.

Bear in Backyard, clip from Cleveland Fox 8 Local News

1. Consisting of or having the form of powder or dust; powdery.

1656 BLOUNT Glossogr., Pulverulent, dusty, of dust, full of dust. 1806 SAUNDERS Mineral Waters I. 20 The glutinous part of wheat flour, [which is] dry and pulverulent. 1830 LINDLEY Nat. Syst. Bot. 316 In Lycopodium..the pulverulent thecæ occupy the upper ends of the shoots. 1883 Athenæum 11 Aug. 183/2 The announcement by M. Spring that a pressure of 5,000 atmospheres caused pulverulent matters to aggregate into crystalline masses.



2. Covered with powder or dust; dusty; spec. in Entom. and Bot.

1744 AKENSIDE Poet, On shelves pulverulent, majestic stands His library. 1826 KIRBY & SP. Entomol. IV. xlvi. 275 Pulverulent,..covered with very minute powder-like scales. 1828 R. K. GREVILLE Sc. Crypt. Flora VI. 338 Perithecia..white and pulverulent.



3. Of very slight cohesion; crumbling to dust.

1794 SULLIVAN View Nat. I. 500 Calcareous stone is also found in the pulverulent form; and of this kind is chalk. 1811 PINKERTON Petralogy II. 381 Ashes, sand, and light pulverulent scoriæ. 1856 CARPENTER Microsc. 373 A thallus..which has no very defined limit, and which, in consequence of the very slight adhesion of its component cells, is said to be ‘pulverulent’. 1882 GEIKIE Text-bk. Geol. II. II. iii. 91 A rock is said to be..pulverulent, when it readily falls to powder.



4. Pulverizing. rare. erron.

1864 RUSKIN Arrows of Chace (1880) I. 260 The pulverulent effect [on masses of stone] of original precipitation to glacier level from two or three thousand feet above.



5. Of birds: Characterized by or addicted to lying or rolling in the dust.

1828 in WEBSTER. 1869 GILLMORE tr. Figuier's Rept. & Birds v. 410 Partridges have, like the Quail, the pulverulent instinct.



Hence pulverulently adv., in a powdery or dusty manner. pulverulentous a. (in quot. pulveri-), pulverulent. Obs. rare.

1640 PARKINSON Theat. Bot. 1594 We have many sorts [of myrrh].., great and small, fat and dry, pulverilentous like, pale and more red. 1821 W. P. C. BARTON Flora N. Amer. I. 113 Corolla pulverulently rough within.



Sometimes I feel very pulverilentous like (dusty and shite).

(Don't freak, I'm not dying...I just thought it might be fun! ---yes, I realize it's a bit sick. ---no, I don't think it's morbid. ---jesus, gimme a break here!)

I, me, being of mostly sound mind and chubby (albiet hot, imho)body, do set for this, my last will and testament. After my death I would, as I have often said, like my head to be turned into a sweet candy dish. I leave the task of decorating my skull to Roy, Vicki and Allison. Roy, per his request, would like to keep my little finger, and it should be mummified so that he might keep it in his pocket. I bequeath to Bruce, provided that he does not preceed me in death, my stuffed animals and dirty underwear. If he does preceed me in death, somebody else can have the stuffed animals, but you should probebly just toss the undies, unless you really want them for some reason. Addidtionally, I would like his body/ashes/mummy/whatever to be placed with me in the ABOVE GROUND temple containing the rest of my body parts, which ya'll should build yerselves and decorate elaborately (remember I like sparkly things, and I love my doggums).
As to my massive amounts of stuff, junk, and the like. Roy gets most of it and can override anything I bequeath here after, quit bitching! Rabbit gets my Manga and my romance novel, if it is not finished, and if it is not finished she should freaking finish it! Ya'll can mud rassle over my poetry, but no matter who gets what poem ya'll better try to publish me posthumously, or I'll haunt your asses like a motherfucker. Vicki gets all of my clothes and my crafting supplies. My momma and poppy get anything they lay claim to, as long as Roy don't want it more, no arguing! My sister gets whatever she wants too, but she must also take the candy dish by my bed, and my wedding dress which is to be used for a halloween costume. Allison is in charge of divvying up any photos that Roy doesn't want, and gets first dibs on any she does want, and she gets my box of dork and "The Sword of Panthor." J-drive gets my car, because he won't drive it anyway and it's falling apart. Robin gets whatever shoes she would like from my closet. Desi gets my tarot cards...give them up Ms. A, you already have some from me...and one of my diamond earrings, which she should put in a ring someday. The other diamond earring goes to my brother, so he can wear it and be all bling. Dave gets my favorite blanket, the one with the snails and stopsigns, so he can snuggle it and cry. Roy is allowed to remarry ONLY if my bitches approve. And for god's sake somebody clean out the naughty drawer!

Also, I want a wake, with a keg, and karaoke, and baked beans. Also, someone should bury headless me in either a prom dress or a space suit in order to confuse archeologists from the future. And make sure I'm giving the thumbs up sign. Plus, I want an altar and you must worship at it at least once a year. Maybe you should start a religion around headless me? And don't fill my skull candy dish with free floating candies, they should all be individually wrapped...I suggest hershey kisses, or wintogreen lifesavers, which you could all stand around and crunch in the dark in order to give me a fireworks display (they spark when you crunch them. Try it, I'm not lying).

Any complaints should be directed to my dead ass. See ya'll in hell, suckas!

This has been the last will and testiment of ME! (Let's see a lawyer try to figure this shit out.)

"What is Yaoi?

Yaoi is a Japanese publishing genre that encompasses manga, novels and short stories produced by female artists and writers for the enjoyment of female readers. It's a fantasy form which focuses on the romantic, emotional, and above all, sexual relationships of guys together. The word yaoi is derived from the first syllables of each word in the expression, yama nashi, ochi nashi, imi nashi, which means "no peak, no point, no meaning,” and originally referred to badly drawn self-published fan comics (doujinshi). Yaoi is similar to the American genre of slash (m/m pairings based on popular tv series, movies or books), but typically with more of a visual aspect.

Boy's Love (BL) is the usual term used by the Japanese publishing industry to categorize works focusing on male/male relationships marketed at women. Many Westerners use yaoi as a catchall term to indicate any story that includes a male/male relationship and is linked to Japan, be it commercial manga, anime, games, game-based slash fiction, English-language fan fiction, fan art, etc., just as BL is used as an umbrella term in Japan. In Japan the term yaoi typically refers to just doujinshi and sex scenes. Referring to a commercial work as yaoi, or to a shoujo (girls') or BL manga artist as a yaoi artist may be considered offensive.

Who are the fans?

As mentioned above, the intended audience is female. Which isn't to say that guys, regardless of sexual persuasion, don't enjoy yaoi. Some definitely do, and enjoy it immensely, but the intended audience of Japanese yaoi is exclusively female.

So it's hentai or gay porn for women?

Not at all. Remember that it's all written by women for the enjoyment of other women, so the works display a female fantasy of what's sexually attractive, not necessarily a gay male one. Secondly, there's a common misconception that yaoi is all about the sex, nothing more than hentai or pornography for women. Yaoi manga, novels and anime actually cover a wide variety of genres, from comedy to science fiction, from giant robots to high school romance and have been known to have long, complex, volume-spanning plots.

Which isn’t to say that yaoi works can’t be sexually explicit. Some of them are very much so, and definitely not for minors. It's worth noting that even in the more sexually explicit yaoi anime, there's never full-frontal nudity. There are always strategic camera angles or discreetly bent limbs to blunt the effect. Or there are the infamous "glowing cones of light” (or ghostly outlines) which replace genitalia during sex scenes. "


See..It's absolutely fascinating on both an emotional and analytical level!! (I mean: I love it and it's really strange and interesting) It isn't really porn, because it's more affectionate; It's about gay men (they are the main characters and their relationships are the emotional center of these stories/movies/etc.) but is intended to be read by straight women. IT makes absolutely no sense, and perfect sense at the same time. I'm not quite sure of the implications of the situation/literature. Is this the female version of the gratuitious lesbian scene in straight male porn? What does it mean that the sex (more explicitly the penis itself) is being "left out" or "blurred?" Is this form a result of the VERY obvious exclusion of any consideration for female or gay male viewers in mainstream pornography? Or is it a "celebration of male love and beauty?" The characters certainly are lovely, and quite beautiful. I won't say it isn't really, really appealing...but I'm curious as to what some close reading might surface about this type of literature...what if it's only seemingly liberating, is this a damaging type of objectification somehow? I guess I think too much about things. I'll write more on this as I learn more.

FOR crissakes though, I AM, without a doubt, the perfect target audience (although I wouldn't mind if they left the full frontal unblurred...what's wrong with showing a penis? I think penises are pretty cool!)! It's no different than Anne Rice books: beautifully unearthly men sharing real affection for one another...ah, fantasy. I am a smitten kitten.

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Well, obviously. I like coffee, poetry, meaningless discussions of philosophy, plus I'm uber keen on art. Viva la crap! This would be as good a place as any to publicize my position on the French, and their stunning idea of Genius.

THE FRENCH IDEA OF GENIUS (as I see it)

Is extremely important, yet extremely simple, let's look at is as a logical syllogism: IF I do not understand this thing I see/hear/read/taste, THEN it follows necessarily that I am not clever enough to understand this thing I see/hear/read/taste. If I am not clever enough to understand it, THEN it must be smarter than I am. IF few people understand it, THEN it must be smarter than most people. IF something is so smart that most people cannot understand it, THEN it must be genius. THEREFORE...IF I do not understand the things I see/hear/read/taste, THEN those things must be GENIUS!!!

This is why the French were so keen on accepting things like Truffles (Which I am convinced are a form of moldy pig booger...tasty yes, but who thought to eat that?!!), Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, Cubism, Jean Cocteau's Films, Jerry Lewis, Berets, Baudelaire and Rimbaud, Gertrude and Alice, Pet Monkeys, Syphillis as fashion accessory, the Merkin, Pompadors and Perrier (admittedly some of these things are genius, others are merely ridiculous...I leave you to decide which). Mon Dieu! C'est vachement stupide, vraiment!

Apparently in France one can do absurd and disturbing things, and the greater the level of incomprehensibility of those things...the closer one is to pure unadulterated brilliance! Any day now, I'll be receiving a letter from the French government inviting me to be their poster child for the new millinium, and I will spend my days as mascot surrounded by small dogs of various hues, and will roll my naked body in finger paints, then over butcher paper and folk will line up to buy my buttprints, and spout nonsense like the gargoyles of Notre Dame spout water, and wearing only one of those cheese hats from Green Bay (dyed vermillion and covered with bridal cake toppers), and shoes made out of halved pineapple and fat shoelaces, out to the gardens of Versaille, where I will ceremoniously deficate in the self same spot where Marie Antoinette once pinched one off before her beheading, only I will do so surrounded by can can dancers and elvi in flaming jumpsuits who are singing the Aria from Carmen backwards beneath the light of fifty thousand pink glowlights held in the teeth of fifty thousand green parrots who will be released into the air by twelves small girls dressed like madeline from giant wicker sculptures of cell phones...and they will think I am absofuckinlutly genius.

Perrier smells like rotten eggs. Deny it! You can't.