Once You Go Hypocritical Obstinate Militant Feminist of Color, You Never Go Back

It's not like I don't have enough to do with my time.

So why do I do it?

Why, when I happen across a wrongheaded point of view which screams out for a constructive rebuttal, can I not resist taking the bait? And why, when my good faith attempt to balance opinion with informed discourse, does it always scare the IQ right out of the recipient, who then resorts to name-calling, deletion of my input, denial that it existed, and/or general retreat to the safety of whatever gaggle of sycophants they have at their disposal? And most importantly, why oh why does this always happen at the very end of the day when I'm just about to head off to bed, so now I have to stay up all night blogging it and be a zombie tomorrow?

Why climb Mount Everest? Because it is there.

As you may or may not know, one of my few surviving hobbies of the original thousand or so, is "cosplay". It's the making and wearing of costumes from entertainment venues, most often sci-fi, fantasy, horror, animation, and other escapism. We usually gather with our work at conventions throughout the year, which also, sadly, gives one the regular opportunity to remove most of the country's geeks with one well-placed grenade. Fortunately your average jock wouldn't know how to pull out the pin even if he could stuff his sausage finger through the ring, but I digress.

Through the miracle of Facebook and other similar social online thingies, cosplayers meet other cosplayers and a global cosplayer community has formed. This has brought great joy to the hobby but also no small amount of frustration, because behind every costume work of art is the person who made it, and people aren't always what they wear. There is more than enough friction when the costumes are concerned, with undercurrents, and occasional flare-ups, about accuracy, competitiveness, and the like. But this is nothing compared to what can happen when someone who's good at costumes thinks it makes him or her magically equally good at other things, like politics or other highly personal opinions. Because they use their cosplay pages or blogs as their soapbox on unsuspecting fans who really only want to know about the latest cosplay stuff. And thus our story opens.

Facebook - Jay Justice Cosplay

Jay Justice (Real name? Dunno.) An East Coast cosplayer of admirable talent. A surprising number of her getups involve painting her entire body a different color - red for a character named Starfire, green for She-Hulk, silver for Colossus. While I greatly respect someone who goes to such lengths to bring a character to life, it is ironically this very body-painting which revealed to me "JJ's" true colors. We'll start with her original post on Facebook.

Someone I considered a friend attempted to justify the use of blackface in cosplay to me today. Rather than post screencaps of that incident, I’m reblogging my opinion on blackface in general. Which is that it is unnecessary, dehumanizing and disrespectful. In all circumstances. It does NOT make your cosplay "more accurate". You cannot become Black by painting yourself brown. If your costume is on point, everyone will know who you are regardless of your actual race. The costume is THE COSTUME. NOT THE SKIN COLOR.

Now seriously, did anyone's irony meter not explode? If not, things will become clearer soon. Next we wade through a few of the expected "sing it, sista" posts from the yes-men and wannabes who excel at sucking-up from the shadow of someone they admire.

Caroline D. 

People can cosplay across gender and still get the character perfect. No excuse for blackface.

Meaghan H.

I can't believe anyone would ever consider that okay. I suppose they don't even bother to research the history of blackface before going ahead with it. If a costume is well-made and key points are represented, I've never had trouble identifying the character someone was trying to portray.

Bryan L M.

what if it Robert Downey Jr's character in tropic thunder LOL

Jay Justice Cosplay 

Yes, RDJ'rs portrayal in that movie was blackface. Nothing more to say about it.

Bryan L M. 

what if i cosplayed black panther? is that considered black face?

Jay Justice Cosplay

If you paint your face, yes. If you don't, then no. I have a friend who is white & does classic Luke Cage, yellow silk shirt, chain link belt, silver tiara. There is no mistaking who he is. He doesn't paint his skin. He loves that character and he cosplays him. There is nothing wrong with that. If you dig Black Panther, cosplay him. Painting your skin won't make you Black. You'll still be a white guy cosplaying a Black character but there is nothing inherently wrong with that. Hell, I'll be Shuri.

Haus of M.

People think it's as simple and just about "this one time," that they're talking about the present when they talk about doing something like this. They have no sense of the history and the connotations. This isn't just about some choice you're making for a convention this weekend, this is about years and years and years of oppression and hurt and bullshit. Blackface isn't just face paint, assholes, it's SOOOO much more. Oy vey. Thanks for taking the time to provide your insight on this, Jay, a lot of us (myself included) have a lot more to learn.

Neil C. 

plus if some one gives you crap about being a white luke cage just tell them multiverse same if people give you crap about being a black wonder woman or anything for any one really lol

Brandie B.

I was at a Halloween party and some girl arrived as Diana Ross complete in blackface. I'm pretty sure the look on my face was absolute horror. We were all pretty uncomfortable about it. And she had to keeo telling everyone that she was Diana Ross because I guess an afro and some paint makes you Diana Ross? If she would have showed up in some glitzy gown, some big hair and fake eyelashes, we probably would have gotten it, sans the blackface, and she wouldn't have looked like an asshole.

Thomas S.

I have been asked a few times why I don't wear black face, or even a wig when playing Luke Cage. It is just not needed, Luke Cage is an Iconic character, no one misstates who I am paying homage to when I put on the yellow shirt and boots. If I were to cosplay the Purple Man I would go purple, or martian manhunter I would go green, because that is part of the character.and is indelible to what makes them unique. Luke Cage, Superman, Wonder Woman, Spiderman, Wolverine, Iron Man, Black Canary, Aquaman and a hundred other superheroes are not defined by something so trivial as melanoma levels

Michael J. D. 

I wouldn't even use blackface for a Dark Elf, as most of the ones I see in the official D&D books/comics are not actually black, but either charcoal gray or midnight blue, according to my crayon box.

It was at about this point I realized that everyone was missing a huge point. And my Devil's Advocate Mode kicked in, which is about as far from a Self-Preservation Mode as you could ever get. But I had at it anyway:

Ken Huegel

With all due respect, you are quite entitled to your opinions, but I see a serious double-standard here, with a topping of good ol' 'Murican "ever-ready-to-be-offended". Just going by your very own examples, painting yourself red, green, or silver is okay, but brown (which is NOT black, but that's another topic for another day) is not. Why? If you insist that the latter is never anything except an intentional slander of a race, then I think we should hear from some Native Americans about your Starfire cosplay. Or sufferers of hyperchromic anemia about your She-Hulk. Or of argyria about your Colossus. According to your own opinion, you are maliciously slurring sufferers of these chronic illnesses, not to mention the only race even more oppressed by Whites than yours. If you heard from one of these "victims" (surely imminent in lawsuit-happy USA), how would you dispute their umbrage without also questioning your own? 

I would enjoy a serious* discussion about this. If nothing else, I hope not to see this post disappear because it dared to not join the "you go, girl" chorus.

* Note to your sycophants: "well yur a dick" is not serious discussion. ;-)

My input actually got 2 or 3 "Likes" right away, and even a subsequent post about what an interesting debate this had become. (Why the footnote about "serious discussion? See previous blog entry.) And I was really telling the truth about wanting to discuss this. Unlike most people, I often want to understand how someone else's mind can work so differently from mine. Of course, now that I think of it, in all the times I've tried this approach, it's worked... hmm... about zero times. And Jay Justice was to be no exception. By day's end, my post had vanished despite my pre-emptive plea, as did any post that commented on mine. In it's place was this:

Jay Justice Cosplay

I stopped talking to the friend who insisted that blackface was okay, and this is someone who I have known in real life for years, since before I even began cosplaying. So anyone who thinks I'm going to humor their opinion on this topic has the wrong impression of me.You're not going to change my mind, and you're certainly not going to get anywhere by telling me that me cosplaying She Hulk, Colossus and Starfire is racist too. You're just going to get banned from my page.

Have you ever wondered why Black cosplayers typically don't paint themselves white when cosplaying white cosplayers? It's because we know that we're all just people, and it won't make the costume more accurate, we'll just look silly. It's ridiculous. The costume is the costume, not the character's white skin.

Whereas Blackface is dehumanizing, because it implies there is something so different about us that you can't really do a Black cosplay 'correctly' if you're not Black, without painting your skin. Is that all we are to you? Some pigment in a jar? Uhura is Uhura, you get that dress & hairstyle right & you're good to go. You're bringing to life a character you love, there's no need to paint yourself darker to show us that. You're not going to suddenly be Black once you've tanned. And tbh, unless you're entering into the World Cosplay Summit, cosplay doesn't have to be about accuracy. It's about fun! When did we forget that?

And additionally of course, I'm now banned from posting anything more on her page.

So once again, I try to bring balance to the Force with an equal but opposing viewpoint, and once again it's wasted breath. Because people like this only want to spew out their opinions and collect the "oohs" and "aahs" from their own little peanut gallery which "oohs" and "aahs" every post anyway. There was never any inkling of interest in tossing out such a highly debatable topic for the purposes of... oh, I dunno... actually debating it. She's the Queen of her own sad tiny kingdom, and when she proclaimeth, be it hypocritical, self-contradictory, racist, or just plain uninformed, you either drink the Kool-Aid or GTFO. Don't even think of exposing the blatant ignorance of what's been said.

So I'm done banging my head against that wall. But since I wanted a modicum of closure, I paid a visit to her blog. Until today I wasn't interested in her as a person, just as a cosplayer. After peeking behind that curtain, I can simultaneously say I should have trusted my instincts, but also my questions are pretty much answered. If Gloria Steinem (militant feminist) and Malcolm X (militant Negro) ever had a love child, it would be Jay Justice. More issues than The Saturday Evening Post. You can't scroll more than 10 lines without seeing lines like "racist" and "sexist". Women are always the victim. Except when Blacks are always the victim. Except JJ is a Black Woman (should that be "womyn"?), so she's two, two, two victims in one, possessed of an axe to grind with virtually anyone less tanned and/or more Y-chromosomed than herself. So unlike most people for whom a hobby like cosplay would represent a respite, or at least a departure, from real life, JJ seems to differentiate between life and cosplay only in the levels of makeup used: in both worlds she seemingly fancies herself a fantasy superhero, fighting a world of injustice. Perhaps a future cosplay prize might be Google Glass, so she can superimpose those old TV Batman splats that say POW! BIFF! SOCK! UGGH! over her daily existence as she vanquishes villain after villain (with her mighty "Delete" key!) in the never-ending battle within her mind.

I'll leave you with the rest of the Facebook thread as of this writing. Someone else is daring to challenge the Queen in my stead, but either without sufficient supporting facts to risk rocking her boatload of opinion, or perhaps her "Delete" key is broken from overuse...

Dani Monique G.

It doesn't help that the Ilythiiri are looked at as the most evil, violent, untrustworthy of the elven race of the D&D world either...

Jay Justice Cosplay

It's a recurring theme in fiction actually, that dark = bad. But that's a whole other can of worms.

Ian K.

it's not a can of worms at all with proper education.

Jay Justice Cosplay 

I don't disagree, but I also don't have the time to moderate that conversation so it's not going down here, even if I have to delete this post to prevent it. No ma'am. Lol

Ian K.

[...]Is that all we(lighter skinned people) are to you? Someone who's trying to offend you because of your color?

Jay Justice Cosplay 

Nowhere did I say that all white or lighter skinned people use blackface, are racist, or don't care about people of color. If you felt my comments were directed at you, and you are none of those things, then you are incorrect.

Ian K. 

That's fine, I was just asking. I know none of your comments are directed towards me I was just curious

Jay Justice Cosplay

Did you legitimately believe that I hold such feelings toward all white people? Or are you trolling.

Ian K. 

It was just an honest question? I didn't assert that you were anything, i specifically asked you personally if you felt that way because I don't understand what the problem is.

Jay Justice Cosplay

If you read all the comments here & still don't understand what the problem is, I don't think I can teach it to you. Unless you were planning to use blackface for some reason, I don't think you personally have anything to worry about.

Ian K. 

I did read all the comments. If you say its never okay to have fun without intending to hurt anyone, then the racists won. Imagine a world where the original blackface never happened. Maybe it would be okay to cosplay as a PoC.

Jay Justice Cosplay

Yes, if we could erase all the imperialism in the world, all of the oppression, and all of the bigotry, the history of slavery and Jim Crow laws--do you see what you're saying? These are all affecting the lives of Black people to this day. You can call it 'having fun' because it's fun for you, but for Black people it's hurtful. It's a privilege that you have, not having to be affected by things like this. If you can see past your privilege for a few minutes, and just try to think--what's more important here? Someone getting to 'have fun' for a day at the expense of an entire race of people, or not hurting anyone at all and actively being against racism, by not using blackface in the first place?

Stupid Does as Stupid Is

Well, this proves it.  My writing muse clearly springs from the dark side. If you want to read about what's bright, shiny and happy in the world, that's the blog across the street. The really short one, but I digress. If you want to read about what's sad, stupid and unfair, welcome to my pad. Pour yourself a stiff one and find a comfy chair.

“But wait,” I sense your query. “If your blog is about sad, stupid and unfair, then how come it's been decades (slight exaggeration) since your last post? You should have source material for 500 entries daily!”  All true. Too true, in fact, which is why I've been scarce. If I paid attention to every bit of misery I encounter, hell, even if I simply gave it a passing glance, I'd probably spontaneously combust. Or go into local politics. So I've kind of shrunk my range of contact with the world, installing psychological blinders, defenses and other mechanisms which have helped narrow my focus down to the parts of living with which I can still reasonably cope. Which pretty much amounts to eating, sleeping, and Facebook. And wouldn't you know, even then I'm not safe. Read on.

As part of my neural self-preservation, I don't follow the news very much. I don't actively watch TV or read it online, for a few reasons. If it's in Romanian, I simply (yes, still after all these years) don't understand enough to get it. If it's American, I can't be bothered to filter through the bias, sensationalism, misdirection, and “personalities” to get to the important stuff. So, all but the biggest items come to my attention a bit... behind the curve. Additionally - and this is important to what comes next – an event that may be “big news” in its country of origin, may only be a mention of interest elsewhere. For example: did you know that on Friday, 14 December 2012, an armed man went on a rampage and attacked over 20 students at a grade school… in Henan, China? Let the many levels of that news sink in for a moment. 

Moving on. If you think that you can lock down your Facebook experience to keep out the sad, stupid or unfair (or whatever ails you), think again. I just have to share with you a recent exchange in which I got caught up, as surreal as it was stupid… and ultimately, all too common. We open with a photo and quip from my friend M., whom (as it frequently happens among the online savvy) I've known for years without having actually met in person. Sadly, I now know that the phrase “any friend of yours is a friend of mine” to be complete and utter bullshit. What you need to know at the outset is that at the time I made my reply, I am now certain I had not yet heard anything in detail about a school shooting in Connecticut.

Now, in order to be my friend on Facebook, you need to be one of two things: a hot chick with high blood alcohol and low standards, or someone who shares my humor style. Since I've always been reasonably sure M. is the latter and not the former, I felt comfortable posting my response, and indeed he quickly gave it a Like. MAYBE, just maybe if I'd been more up on breaking news, I might not have posted it. But since I had been inspired by something so completely unrelated (a TV show), I still might have.

But I needn't have worried, for total strangers waited to sit in judgement and save me the concern.

You can quickly see how this escalates. You can probably also see that I made the grievous error of standing my ground, explaining my position rationally and factually, and worst of all... assuming I was addressing individuals of comparable motive and intellect, who were interested in hashing out what was really going on. I suppose my first clue should have been when the input descended to the last refuge of the out-argued; "You're a dick." While that should have said to me, "OK, I have nothing more of value to bring to this discussion, further effort on your part will be pointless", I in fact did have some spare effort laying around for which I had no other immediate use. So, like a cat which can't resist continuing to bat around the flailing sparrow even when it's already clearly caught and dying...

This person quickly reminded me of what I might hate most about my fellow Americans: the intractable, utter conviction that their personal opinions are somehow binding verdicts upon me which I must accept and act on without question, and specifically how "offending them" is something I should make my highest priority to avoid, and profusely apologize for if I fail. That a total stranger is utterly convinced of his divine authority to exact a penalty from me for offending him, especially if unintentionally, is something around which I have never been able to wrap my mind.

At this point, I thought things were sputtering to a halt, or if they weren't, I was pretty much done anyway. I had led this horse to the water of reason and logic, but I couldn't make him drink. Calling me a "troll" was just another version (Internet-specific) of calling me a dick, so I knew I would derive no more satisfaction from exposing his ignorance. My "yee-haw" came from the fact that by now I'd looked up this rube's profile and seen that he lives in the American South, practically the historical home of argument for its own sake, but more relevant to the story, most geographically likely to be populated by educationally- and dentally-challenged inbreds who, among whatever else they do for entertainment, yell "yee-haw" a lot. Well, more than they probably do in, say, Vermont, I'd wager. Anyway, it was my attempt to bid farewell to my new friend on a level of communication closer to his. But wouldn't you know it...

It was apparently a tag team effort, with more of the same.

Well, not completely the same. I'd been promoted from "dick" to "pencil dick!" On the off chance that the original "dick" meant "toothpick dick", it was clearly a step up, size-wise, and I took the compliment, as well as new buddy Bruce's advice. I closed with a simple question, but seeing as how I used a lot of big words, I shouldn't have been so surprised when no reply came.

And finally, my friend M. declared the end of the adventure with exactly the type of flair that illustrates why we're friends.

Post-Game Analysis

I've really tried in my life to adopt a "live and let live" philosophy. Granted, my reasons aren't as altruistic as you might think... it's more for my own medically-advised stress reduction than any desire to better relate to my fellow man. But either way, many things that used to bother me don't anymore. Stupid people are the best example. I can usually shrug them off nowadays. There are just so damn many out there, sheer numbers make any possibility of fighting the good fight laughable. So, as I said above, I set up ways to minimize my exposure to them and their effect on my life. For the most part it's working, as evidenced by my barren blog. Nope, to get on my radar, being stupid is no longer enough. I can even finally consider that it's probably not even their fault. There are so many institutions at all levels - education, media, business, government - actively working to make and keep them stupid that vanishingly few minds can resist them all. It doesn't even bother me anymore when stupid people actively approach me and impose their stupidity on me. This has not so much to do with self-discipline... I've just become numb to it from having it happen so often. But clearly a line still exists, as shown by these goobers' ability to cross it. And I think it is when stupid people not only actively approach me, not only slather me with the stink of their stupidity, but then have the unmitigated gall to consider me inferior because I didn't come around to their way of thinking. It's such a distorted, perverted view of the way things really are, that anyone with two brain cells to rub together will overwhelmingly, instinctively need to try and correct it. Thinkers abhor stupidity as Nature abhors a vacuum. I don't know if Nature finds her compulsion as futile as it is irresistible, the way I find mine. But it would certainly help if, every time I finally learn to stop banging my head against this particular wall, someone didn't always move the wall closer again.

Latest Display Tech Fail

You know I collect these...

Kiosk in Baneasa Mall

Technically it doesn't appear to be Windows this time...

On the highway somewhere around Predeal. Ish.

When Number One IS Number One

Every so often in the flotsam and jetsam of the Internet, a particular survey bobs to the surface, being the top things women hate about men. Putting aside for now the concerns that such a list is, at best, subjective because most answers are likely - and even admittedly - different depending on where in the month a woman is asked (yes I went THERE), and that such a list of complaints could even be narrowed down to anything needing less than infinite pixels to display, the majority of answers seem to do with hygiene, most often body hair or nail trimmings, most often being found off its body of origin, most often in the sink. But even beyond this most egregious and malevolent ...er, function of nature (do you beat Fido or Fluffy for shedding? Noooo, just Mister), is the consistent top Number One answer: leaving the toilet seat up.

Surprisingly, I got nothin' for this one.  I quite agree that it's not our best feature. Mostly because it seems permanently partnered with lousy aim. Men place tremendous value, to the extent of lifelong training, on their ability to throw, bat, kick or putt various small objects into equally small places with nanometric precision. And these same men can't aim their own built-in equipment with a fraction of that accuracy. Maybe toilets need points-tickets dispensers like skee-ball machines. Collect enough points via good aim, and redeem them for dinner.

I can joke about all this because I rarely pee standing into a regular toilet. Not only is my aim NOT better for having avoided all that nasty sports training in my youth, but because of my height, there is about an extra meter between me and the bowl. Thus, after the stream in question has left me but before it hits the porcelain pool, the rotation of the Earth has swung the toilet sufficiently eastward to throw off my aim even further.

So, cry the multitude, this leaves the basic question as unanswered as it is eternal: why do men do it?

I believe I have the answer.

At the very least, I have AN answer. And there's nothing theoretical, hypothetical or even far-fetched about it.  I LIVE it and I'm sure I'm not alone. And what's most stunning?  The deviously sinister evil genius behind this motivation for men to pee standing may lie with none other than WOMEN, possibly the very same ones who bemoan men who pee standing! And I now expose this travesty for posterity and the vindication of masculinity for generations to come.

Let's cut to the chase: we're talking about toilet fresheners. Whether they're dropped in, stuck on, hung or sprayed, a universal truth is that no man worth his gender would buy one, much less install one. These devices are right up there with potpourri and lace doilies as items which only females would deem necessary in a domicile. A man could be set on fire before admitting to the possible point of furniture, or forks, let alone items of higher bodily function.  Guaranteed, the only time a man encounters a toilet freshener is if his significant other put it there.

This in and of itself is not so horrible. Any attempt to make us males smell better is laudable, if usually doomed to fail. Certainly, as any midsummer city bus ride will attest, men are quite unable to odorproof themselves, so the ladies might as well take a whack at it. But to introduce a solution that only SEEMS like a solution, but in reality only perpetuates the problem, takes a level of shrewd craftiness that no mere male intellect could brew up. THIS:

...could only come from the mind of a woman. An evil woman at that. And before you wags ask me if there's any other kind, let's just stick to the facts. This toilet freshener releases a dark blue dye with every flush.  You can't hang it on the sides of the bowl, as it won't extend down to the water stream.

Nope, it only works front and center. Perfectly out of the way when a woman sits down.  This is a good thing, as this is usually their only option. Now, on the other hand, your average male has some dangly bits that would line up just about exactly with this blue dye-soaking device if he sits down.  Did I say "would"? Well, I meant to say "damn well surely do"! To be fair, I'm not talking about my normal home situation (and yes, the oxymoron is not lost on me). The photos above depict what awaited me at an otherwise splendid hotel during a recent weekend trip. But because I don't usually expect sabotage in my commodial consultations, I parked myself as I always do.  So, when I got up, ...well, I can't be overly explicit, but here is a reasonable visual representation of my subsequent status:

Admittedly, I may have, once or twice in my younger days, suffered from the condition known as "blue balls", but in this case, as the internet memes say, "UR DOIN IT WRONG". And did I mention that this cerulean crap doesn't wash off right away? Noooo! So, I ask you, which gender stands more to lose by inventing such a savagely subversive atrocity? Or, better put, which gender would derive infinitely more secretly evil glee from it, passively-aggressively ensuring that their number-one complaint about men will remain ever-unsolved and therefore fertile bitching ground?

Yeah, I thought so.

So, even as a reasonably considerate and enlightened example of the species, if I am to be faced with the choice of risking the recrimination of a vertical-stance aqueous dispensation, or to tote a turquoise-tipped tallywhacker for a week, then of course that lid is going up and the cards (and everything else) will fall where they may. Me personally, I'll probably remember to put it down again when I'm done, but I obviously can't promise the rest of my gender to follow suit. Which guarantees our collective place at the top of the survey for the foreseeable future.

Maybe I can learn to clip my nails in the sink instead.

Copyright Crusade Continues

The most-addressed subject in this blog?  Surprisingly, not bad drivers, parkers, or license-tag forgers.  Less surprisingly, neither the pitiable details of my futile personal life.  Nope, by my count, it's copyright infringement... my personal pet peeve, one that really should have been considered in my original decision to move to Romania so long* ago.  As a graphic designer, each instance I encounter is like fingernails against the chalkboard of my creative palette. While it's true I've encountered fewer examples as I go on, it's mainly because I've stopped looking for them.  But odds dictate that sooner or later, an egregious example will come to me.  And so it has, in the form of a FaceBook ad.

So there I was, minding my own business on Facebook, doing any old thing except flirting with young women of course, when the page refreshed and changed, as it does, the string of ads running down the right side of the page.  Against all odds (and self-training), one caught my eye by making me wonder "hm, what's my bank doing in Romania?"  You see, Facebook targets its ads geographically among other factors, so I'm used to ads about Romanian businesses, which are blissfully easy to ignore with my limited grasp of the language.  But this time it was the graphics, not the words, that jumped out at me, combined with the unexpectedness of seeing them apparently involved with Romania. 

So let's cut to the chase.  The ad turned out to be for a particularly lame cellphone retailer, or perhaps broker, as they provide no contact details whatsoever and just generally give every impression they don't want you to find out who or where they are. But here is their page:

and here is my bank:

You see what they did there?

One could argue that the graphic is so simple that odds are many artists could come up with it. But what are the odds they'd also replicate the same gentle curve and the same changed color portion? But of course, flipping it mirror-style and adding nifty 3-D effects makes it all original, dunnit? Oh, I give up. About the only take-aways from this entry will be: 1. I have, with deep shame, provided highly-regrettable evidence that Facebook ads do occasionally work... expect a new onslaught any time now, and 2. I've revealed my account is at Bank of America, narrowing the parameters for the horde of hackers eager to relieve me of my personal fortune.  You know what?  For the average $30.00 in my account, knock yourselves out, kids.

*long, long, LONG