amusing pregnancy album

Like many women, I was not interested in having revealing photos taken of me while I was pregnant. I know many men like to see that, and some women too, but that's not for me.

I think of it like sharing photos of me when I first get up in the morning or when I'm in the middle of taking a dump. Yes, such moments are part of everyday life, but they don't necessarily have to be memorialized if you don't want them. With a few exceptions, the husband honored my request.

The photo below is part of a gallery published online by a man who was excited by his wife's pregnancy but respected her wishes not to be photographed. I guess he pushed out his gut as opposed to the images being digitally manipulated, with the exception of the last one.

I want to see him when he's nine-months "pregnant." I want to see bloated ankles, painfully swollen breasts, and spidery varicose veins. Then he can enjoy the whole pregnancy experience and report about it.

non-stop nonsense

The husband and I watched the Non-Stop DVD last night. We both independently agreed we'd never seen such a movie with so many plot holes. It is suspenseful and does keep you on the edge of your seat, but it could have been so much better.

The story is essentially a locked room tale. Some 150 passengers are trapped in a plane with a bomb, and the only one who can solve the mess is a disgraced, washed-up air marshall. I'm not giving away anything there, as the film was promoted with this teaser, and this is revealed very early.

The biggest problem for me was the fact that there's a "big threat" toward the end of the movie, as in "if you do X, then Y will happen and everyone will die." It's an absolute given Y will happen; it's no idle threat. So the hero does X anyway, but then Y doesn't happen and is never mentioned again. (For those of you who have seen the movie, I'm talking about the 8,000-feet business and the major threat the pilot just ignored and it conveniently disappeared.)

James thought the biggest problem, other than the absurdly magical parachutes that never would have made it through airport security, was the poison dart that killed an important person on the plane. The party responsible was never in the bathroom where it was necessary to shoot the dart. As a result, the only logical explanation is there's another terrorist who never is revealed. (Can you say "sequel set-up" boys and girls?)

The plot holes aside, Liam Neeson did an excellent job. There were some very manipulative scenes involving a child, but he really delivered the performance. I kept wondering in those moments if his motivation was the untimely death of his wife, the lovely Natasha Richardson.

better mothering with bigger boobs

The Daily Mail, that paragon of British journalism, ran an article a few days ago about a woman who thinks she's now a better mother because she had her tits enlarged.

Pre-ballooning, she allegedly refused to leave the house because of her anxiety about her small breasts. As a result, she contends, her young son was forced to stay home and could not attend play dates and other events.

Mommy had her boobs inflated to 32G from 32AA. She claims she can now leave the house as a result of the surgery, and freely escorts Junior to a wide variety of activities. Ergo, Mommy assumes, "I'm now a better mother."

So she's freely admitting she put herself before her son. She imprisoned the child because she was obsessed with her own tits.

The article is silent about how she managed to cope with tiny tits before she became pregnant.

Here's my theory: given UK tabloids routinely pay for interviews, Mommy concocted a bullshit story that she could sell to the eager gutter press. Voila, she now has the dough for the new tits.

One look at her leering goofball husband with the bad haircut and you know who really wanted the boob job. You know he loves playing with Mommy's new 32G toys.

make her horny with humor

Somehow I ended up on this ridiculous page which purports to teach men "the number-one secret to making her dripping wet and uncontrollably horny."

All you have to do is make her laugh, and her snatch is yours.

The rather lengthy come-on is full of tips and examples for the clueless and humorless fellow. The zinger doesn't come until the end -- the book that will teach you all the secrets is only fifty bucks. The webpage appears to be the online version of a late-night infomercial.

I'll save you fifty bucks right here with a cold dash of reality. You can't learn a sense of humor from a book. You either have it, or you don't. End of story.

But humor alone will not open a woman's legs. Trust me, I'm a woman and have been hit on by men who think they're funny. There's nothing worse than a bad come-on line from a guy who has no sense of humor.

Yes, I have met some men with a great sense of humor, but that didn't make me instantly want to fuck them. A man has to have a whole range of qualities to close the deal. This is the same for every woman I know.

I'll give you a perfect example: Steven Wright makes me laugh a lot. But I would not sleep with him. Ever. Thinking about doing him just makes my skin crawl. I'd rather bathe in a tub full of centipedes.

golden oldie sex

My step-mother-in-law accidentally let it slip in a conversation yesterday that she and my father-in-law still have sex several times a week. I pretended it was no amazing revelation, like I had barely heard her, and didn't press for details. He's in his mid-seventies, and she's in her later sixties.

Later afternoon is apparently their favorite time for a romantic romp. I think that's so incredibly sweet. I'm glad for them. They're two of the nicest people I've ever known.

I told my husband that means we still have an active sex life ahead of us for at least three decades because male virility is supposedly an inherited genetic trait. James said okay by him.

Of course I'm dying to know how and what the in-laws do, but I wouldn't be so crass as to ask outright for details. Maybe a few glasses of wine another time will help loosen her tongue again.

fifty shades of blah

Universal has released the first trailer for their forthcoming adaptation of Fifty Shades of Grey. In short, I was not blown away.

Both of the leads seem wrong, in my opinion. The male lead, played by Jamie Dornan, lacks the gravitas to be a sexually dominant male. He seems like a grown up nerdy preppy to me, like some of the brainless male models with whom I once worked. Alexander Skarsgård reportedly was in talks to appear as the lead, and he would have been a far better choice. I could see him getting off on taking a riding crop to a bound woman's backside.

The female lead, played by Dakota Johnson, is also off the mark. She seems like a ditsy poppet and not a very good actress to boot. The book's author apparently rejected Kristen Stewart as the lead, but I think she would have been much better. Scarlett Johansson would have been ideal for the role because she could really portray the naif who blossoms with a sexual awakening.

The dialog in the trailer seems cliched and bland to me. But then the whole book brimmed with cliched, bland dialog, so who could be surprised.

It will be interesting to see what film reviewers say about the final movie, to be released next Valentine's Day.

Meanwhile, an unknown but very clever wit posted this visual parody of the trailer the same day the official one went live.

wiggly worm

With an active twenty-month-old son, I have learned that trips anyplace without another adult along to lend a hand can be a real challenge. Often I go with the husband, but that's not always possible. Sometimes I run errands with another young mother, so when one of us needs to do something and devote undivided attention, the other mom can watch the little ones.

There are times, however, when I must venture out alone with Joey. You have not lived until you've used a public loo with an active toddler while keeping him out of trouble. You don't watch him to touch anything nor peer under the other stalls. A bundle of shopping and a diaper bag in a loo stall with no shelf or hook presents an extra challenge.

I've discovered that encouraging a sing-along is the best way to keep him distracted and amused. On one occasion, an unknown woman in an adjacent stall helpfully joined in.

If there's an Indy 500 for the fastest crap in a public loo, I could be a serious contender.

underwater beauty

The lovely picture below is the work of photographer Lola Mitchell, who has done a series of surreal underwater photographs called Trust. Some of them are downright haunting in their surreal quality.

I have to imagine this was a lot of work to create these, much more than a typical shoot. The photographer could not direct the models while she worked, so this would require rehearsal and careful choreography.

Check them out on the click-through!

the mirror has two faces

I keep saying "this has to be the worst tattoo I've ever seen."

And then I find one even worse.

It's new, too. You can tell by the redness around the image plus the blue-gloved tattoo artist in the background, suggesting it was made in his shop before the proverbial ink was dry.

It might just be my projection, but she does not look at all happy about this tatt. I certainly hope the man depicted here did not compel her to get this.

What a sad mistake, one that will last a lifetime.

why did I look?

I was reading some news articles about the recent Ukraine air disaster. One of the items included a click-through link with crash photos and the warning "some images are extremely graphic."

I knew I shouldn't click through. I knew I was making a mistake. I knew I would regret looking at them.

I did it anyway. My impulse control lapsed, and now I'm very sorry. It will be a long while before I forget one of the photos I saw.

I usually have good impulse control. I have no utterly problem with impulse control when it comes to food or money or mind-numbing substances.

Horrible photos are another matter. I do this to myself every time. I see a warning online that says "extremely graphic images," and I know I will be very sorry if I look. But then I do it anyway.

The picture below, fortunately, is not one of the graphic photos, but it is of the crash site. I thought this was surreally beautiful -- tired workers searching for mangled bodies in a serene field of sunflowers. It's like something in a movie, like the air crash aftermath in Fearless with Jeff Bridges.

Real life imitating art.

zohan the knitter

I think some men might make fun of this guy. But why? Because he's knitting? Does it make him less of a man?

My husband can hand sew better than I can. He doesn't know how to use a sewing machine, but when it comes to darning and repairs, he's far better than I am. He was in the Australian navy for twenty years, and sailors needed to know how to sew for themselves. Whenever I need something mended, I ask James to do it for me.

Zohan the knitter appeals to me as a woman because he's secure with his masculinity. He doesn't give a shit what anybody else thinks. I would be more attracted to him than I would be to a man who mocked him. I know other women would be, too.

world cup mystery

As you likely know, the 2014 World Cup competition is now over. An Australian friend asked why we Americans are not football (i.e. soccer) mad like the rest of the world.

I don't think it's because the US was fairly isolated from the rest of the world until the 20th century. If that was the reason, then football would not be massively popular in Latin America, which was just as isolated, arguably for longer.

I suspect it might be because, much like baseball, American football grew to be very popular as mass media became more popular, so that association-style football never really had a chance to take root when that came along a little later.

Most Americans played soccer as school children, but that was more of a "school" sport. American football was the big time, where all the money went, so thus most of the attraction. Boys aspired to be football stars, not soccer players.

With so much international mass media attention now focused on the World Cup, I would not be surprised if is more and more on America's radar in the future. With increasing numbers of parents worried about head injuries in American football, association football a.k.a. soccer is more attractive for childhood play. As a parent, I would have no problem if my son wanted to play soccer, but American football would trouble me.

Still, I imagine parts of America will resist this trend. West Texas, for instance, doesn't seem like a place that would ever give up American football.

Maybe I have no idea what I'm talking about. But all this sounds like a possibility to me.

cow fluffers

I've seen pictures of cows in internet memes that had ridiculously fluffy coats like stuffed animals. I always thought they were fakes made with Photoshop.

Turns out I'm wrong -- the fluffy cows are real.

They're not a special breed. They're regular cows that have been preened and primped and pampered like poodles. Fluffy cows may spend up to two hours a day having their coats fluffed for cattle show purposes.

They're bovine beauty queens. And kings.

I'm sorry, but I think they look ridiculous, as silly as those human bodybuilders who spray that orange-gold shit all over themselves.

And I'll bet the other cows are laughing at them too.

that 3 a.m. feeling

I woke up around three this morning out of a deep sleep. I usually sleep all the night through, but for unknown reasons, I popped awake.

I wondered if perhaps Joey had called out, so I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could. The husband is a light sleeper, but he didn't rouse. I padded down the hall and found our son sound asleep.

I visited the loo and then returned to bed as quietly as I could. The husband murmured something in his sleep and then his deep breathing resumed with a steady rhythm.

I was very sleepy and I knew I would fall back to sleep in a few minutes. I just lay there quietly, and my mind wandered a bit before the Land of Nod welcomed me.

The silent moment had a sudden power to it, almost a life of its own, as I realized how wonderfully content I am, how happy I am with my life. I was lying beside the human I loved more than anyone in the world, and I knew he loved me just as much. Our beautiful son was in the next room. I had found that equilibrium and balance in my life that, for a time, I wondered if would ever come for me.

The sensation and feeling was intense but not troubling. I have never felt quite like that moment -- a sense of reaching true contentment, of total happiness. I had the presence of mind to remember this was a feeling that I might not always have, because life isn't always wonderful, but in some dark hour of my future, when I am in old and in pain, I would remember that moment early this morning at three.

It was a sense of wonderment that, once reached, could never be taken away from me, even if there would be a time when I no longer had such fulfilling contentment.

most honest campaign ad ever

This is both funny and sad. This was produced for much more than laughs, however. The promoters are deadly serious.

They have a YouTube channel plus an Indiegogo page for more information. I don't know anything about the people behind this, but this certainly seems like it warrants further exploration.

steven spielberg accused of murder

One of Abraham Lincoln's wisest bits of advice was this: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt."

That's guidance some people should have followed after a recent Facebook posting with a twenty-year-old photo of Stephen Spielberg posing with a "dead" dinosaur created for the now classic film Jurassic Park.

The troll who posted it commented "disgraceful photo of recreational hunter happily posing next to a Triceratops he just slaughtered. Please share so the world can name and shame this despicable man."

The post was shared by nearly 40,000 users. Some clearly were in on the joke. Others were not and posted vitriolic rants about how Spielberg should be ashamed of himself for hunting a "rare" animal.

"He's a disgusting inhumane prick," wrote one user. "I’m not watching any of your movies again ANIMAL KILLER."

To add to the embarrassment of those who did not realize they had been duped, this story has spread on the international media where it's being seen by far more than the 40,000 Facebook users. And because Facebook requires real names, the misinformed people spouting off nonsense are identified quoted by name.

People should remember that reality has no backspace.

my invention idea

It's no secret that many people have tattoos these days. I read somewhere that 40 percent of people under 40 in first world countries have one or more tatts.

Some people love theirs, but others already loathe them. The number of loathers will increase over time as more people are tattooed.

Hence, my idea: a nearly undetectable faux skin, applied by aerosol, that will breathe like real skin while totally obscuring the tattoo.

A good cosmetic artist can cover nearly any tattoo now with foundation and other products, but that's a time-consuming process and it still shows somewhat, not to mention the result won't last but half a day.

My idea would be for an artificial skin that could be sprayed on in a few seconds, dry quickly, and all but obscure the tattoo. Obviously, the product would have to be sold in a variety of shades and tones so a user could match his or her skin closely.

Now if I had access to venture capital, I could go out and hire someone to develop a breathable, nearly invisible fake skin. I would then own part of the resulting patent and make millions, perhaps even billions.

The having-millions-in-venture-capital-lying-around part is what will thwart my ambition. I won't be able to develop it, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone else did with something similar in the next ten years.

So, hey, any bright minds out there are free to steal this invention idea.

robin williams is no longer funny

One of my earliest childhood television memories is of watching old reruns of Mork and Mindy. I didn't understand a lot of what Robin Williams was talking about back then, but like many kids, I responded to his zany enthusiasm.

For a good long while, Robin Williams was brilliantly funny. Then he was sort of passably funny.

Now I just inwardly cringe when I see his latest stuff. He's just no longer funny. He's in his sixties and just seems like an old man parodying his younger self. He hasn't really evolved with his age like a truly gifted comic such as George Carlin.

Some of the recent movie and TV roles Williams has chosen seem like he's just trying to make money as opposed to being funny. The Angriest Man in Brooklyn was painful to watch. One of the reviews on IMDb says "if you enjoy Robin Williams showing that not only is he past his prime, but desperately trying to relive his glory days, watch this." That pretty much sums it up.

The clip below is from when he was in his prime, but by then, Mork and Mindy was on the decline. Williams had eclipsed the show.

greed is good?

I'm reading a new book about a very wealthy and politically powerful American family. For several decades, family members were involved in protracted litigation against each other, pitting brother against brother.

At stake were billions of dollars. The family members were all billionaires, but some thought they were short changed in a particular deal and sued for billions.

Basically, the book is about a rapacious family obsessed with money. Each one had numerous multi-million-dollar homes, private jets, fabulous masterpieces of art, but they all wanted more and tore into each other in court.

Such people are both fascinating and repugnant. How much greed is too much? If you're already worth billions, why do you need any more money? You think you'll run out somehow unless you acquire more and more and more?

I'm reminded of a dog that my grandfather had. He always had several at once, but this one dog was the absolute alpha queen. She always wanted all the other dog's toys. She would systematically gather them all together, and if any other dog still was playing with a toy, she would go over and grab it away. Then she'd lay down on top of all the toys and fall asleep.

Billionaires are like that dog. She didn't need most of what she had, but she had to have everything.

sexual epiphany

I was talking with my husband recently about differences between Americans and Australians. In the midst of that, I had sort of an epiphany.

Generally speaking, it seems to me Americans can be more overt about sexual matters but also more prudish and judgmental on the subject in comparison to Aussies. Australians, in contrast, are more discrete about sexual issues but also less prudish and judgmental than Americans.

Las Vegas might be a good point of comparison. Vegas is Sin City. Sex is pretty overt there, but you can also find plenty of Americans who are prudish and judgmental about what happens in Vegas.

You would never find a city like Vegas in Australia. But if you flew to Vegas for an orgy, Australians wouldn't lose their shit about that to the degree many people would in Middle America.

When I lived in the US, I usually kept the fact that I was an exotic dancer to myself, with the exception of men I dated. I found that people could be very judgmental about my profession. Here in Australia, however, people don't seem to care.

Of course, I am speaking in generalities here, and there are plenty of exceptions to every so-called rule.

canadian prize porn

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antique breast implants

This post begins with a warning. A link will soon follow. Do not click the link if you don't want to see pictures of a saggy old woman in her eighties with breast implants and wearing a strink bikini.

You have been warned. Repeatedly. This is the link, but don't click it unless you want to look.

Yes, it's not the grossest thing I've ever seen, but I didn't want to shock anyone, so hence the warning. It is, in a word, unsightly.

I feel like sending this link to every stripper and exotic dancer I've known who taunted me about my smallish tits and the fact that I refused to get implants.

This is your future girls. Yes, in a few decades, you'll have two fleshy English muffins sagging on your chest. Those of you who opted for the extra-large size will look even worse.

There are too many photos on the link to be faked, I think. Someone boosted the exposure in one of them, but they otherwise do look real to me. This was also posted on a Snopes forum and no one there questioned their authenticity.

A quote by G. K. Chesterton, one of my all-time favorites, comes to mind about saggy grandma: "To have a right to do a thing is not at all the same as to be right in doing it."

a penis named jerry

President Warren G. Harding carried on a then-scandalous love affair for a number of years before his White House days, and his erotic letters memorializing that romance will finally be made public at the end of this month.

Previously, parts of a few have been published in academic writings, with little press outside of historical circles. The big release to come in a few weeks, however, is sure to garner significant press attention in our tabloid age.

Over the weekend, The New York Times magazine ran an excellent look back at the romance with some excerpts from letters. While Harding is fairly explicit on occasion for the era, at other times his words are veiled in code. He frequently mentions "Jerry," for instance, which was his and his mistress Carrie Fulton Phillips's nickname for his penis.

Harding seemed to be a tit man. He mentions her boobs several times in the excerpts, recalling "your matchless breasts" at one point.

More passionately, he confesses "I hurt with the insatiate longing, until I feel that there will never be any relief until I take a long, deep, wild draught on your lips and then bury my face on your pillowing breasts."

I hope all his love letters will be available online for free. Given they're being made available by the Library of Congress, that is a possibility. I'm sure they'd be interesting reading.

In honor of the letters' release, I've started calling my husband's cock "Jerry."

the human lamprey

I saw the smaller picture below of designer Donatella Versace taken at a fashion show in Paris yesterday, and the first thing that popped into my head was: "she looks like a lamprey."

If you don't know what lampreys are, they're a parasitic fish with a big nasty sucking mouth that clamps on to another fish that it eats alive for a long period of time. Google if you want to see some gross photos.

I doubt Donatella clamps onto big fish and sucks out their flesh, but with that freakish mouth she could. Now there's a girl who's had way, way too much plastic surgery. The Hollywood ghoul makeup and over-processed limp hair doesn't help, either.

Does this woman honestly think she looks attractive? That anyone will believe she's not sixty? And with that surgical catastrophe, I doubt doctors could do much to reverse that mess.

What's so amazing is that she designs some gorgeous clothes. She really has an eye for style and fashion. But when she looks in her mirror, her eyes are blind.

anti-vaxxers

The Daily Beast ran an article last week about so-called anti-vaxxers (those who oppose vaccinating their children). The reader comment section was arguably more interesting than the piece itself, where some people trotted out hair-brain or anecdotal anti-vaccination claims while others calmly attempted to show how they're based on nonsense.

I'll be blunt in my opinion about anti-vaxxers -- I think they're delusional and needlessly risking their children's safety and health. Yes, some risks associated with vaccines are legitimate, but they're quite rare. And the medical evidence is overwhelming: the chance of harm coming to your child through a vaccine is infinitely smaller than the chance that harm will result if your child is not vaccinated.

Medical doctors in first-world countries are close to unanimous in their advice that vaccines are safe. But that doesn't prevent people from believing some misinformed celebrity with no medical training and books to peddle who insists vaccines are dangerous.

When I was a child, I had a bad reaction to a vaccination and was sick for a week, so I know they're not fun. But they're necessary. I would rather my child be sick for a week from a vaccination reaction than disabled for a lifetime or worse.

When I need medical advice for my son, I would not ask Jenny McCarthy, who has zero medical training. I'd ask my son's pediatrician. Yet there are still parents who think McCarthy is some font of great medical sage and that doctors should be ignored. Quite frankly, I think that kind of attitude is grossly irresponsible.

different states of mind

Someone posted this photo of a woman's leg tattoo on Imgur. What interests me about this are the comments. Some people love it while others think like I do, that it was a mistake.

"One person's art is another's freak show," says a commentator. "That's gonna blur so bad in five more years," says another. And: "looks hideous, I mean, she had beautiful legs, why do that?"

And this is my favorite: "What a sensible life decision!"

I do not spend a lot of time thinking about when I'm older and when I'm old. But it crosses my mind on occasion. I can imagine myself at fifty or at seventy-five. Maybe because I visit the care home where our landlord lives at least once a week, and so I see old people regularly now.

Others, I guess, do not think like that. So the woman who owns this tattoo may not ever have a thought in her head about when she's sixty, nor about how this thing on her leg, distorted and faded, will not look like what it does today.

For some people, I guess, old age seems so far off that they can't even imagine it on the horizon. Live for today and not worry about that tattoo forever on your leg.

would you kill?

I'm currently reading a novel where a woman is pursued by a ruthless killer in a remote state park through much of the story. That may say cheesy, but it's actually a well done, suspenseful book.

At a particular moment earlier in the story, the woman sees the killer standing on a ridge. She can see him, but he cannot see her. She's a good shot and could easily take him out at this moment with no harm to herself. But her conscience causes her to delay pulling the trigger a few seconds and he, unknowing, slips away at that moment. Her chance is gone.

The event is believable in the story because we already have a clear picture of the woman. This seems like the sort of reaction she would have.

When I was reading this passage, I had one of those "what would you do" moments. If I was in her shoes, if I knew a killer was after me and there was no doubt he'd murder me in cold blood if he could find me, I honestly don't think any pang of conscience would keep me from pulling the trigger. I don't think I'd hesitate a fraction of a second.

If I were murdered, that would have a direct impact on my son and husband. If I had a chance to prevent that, I would take that chance. Why should I sacrifice my life to spare a ruthless killer?

Hopefully I will never be in the position to test this supposition. Undoubtedly it's easier to intellectualize things than to actually do it. But I think I'm reading myself right.

happy independence day

Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers. I don't think any holiday is more uniquely American than Independence Day.

When I was younger, I remember people said things like "well, if we had lost the Revolution, you'd be bowing to a king now." With more reading and age behind me, I no longer buy that.

Yes, the colonists could have lost the revolution in 1776, but then who's to say we wouldn't have had a revolution of 1847 or 1870? Populist revolutions swept Europe in the 1840s and 1870s, so one could have started on the other side of the Atlantic as well. Maybe in that alternative universe, the American Revolution of 1847 led to much more of a European revolutionary spirit.

In my reading of history since my school days, I've come to the conclusion the US is an independent country not so much because the colonists won but because the British lost. Weaker victors triumphed over stronger incompetents.

Today, that no longer matters, as the US celebrates its 238th birthday. Yay!

douchebrats

A site called Rich Kids of Instagram showed up on my Tumblr feed, and it's something of a hoot. I imagine some of these are fake, but others are obviously real.

The highly privileged don't seem to realize that a rich douchebag is still a douchebag. Call them douchebrats.

I would think grown children of very wealthy parents would be embarrassed at leaching off someone else, but obviously I'm wrong. As the child of two shrinks, I certainly didn't grow up in a disadvantaged household. I went to school with kids from very wealthy families, far above my social circle, and a lot of them had serious entitlement issues. The nice ones didn't flaunt their parents' wealth, but most did.

It's not your money so you have no claim to it. If the faucet is turned off, what you do from that point forward is what matters. For most of these rich kids, that will never happen, and that's unfortunate for them. I never regret striking out on my own.

sexual taboo

What follows is a true story involving a family my husband and I know. The names have been changed to shield their identity.

About a dozen years ago, widower John Green and divorcee Mary White married. Both had teenage children from their previous marriages, who moved in with them after the couple married. All the children already knew each other at least somewhat because they had grown up in the same community and attended the same school.

Sometime within a year of the marriage, John's daughter and Mary's son became sexually involved, unknown to anyone else in their family. Their relationship continued after they left high school and through college into first jobs. This was always kept secret from everyone in their family. The two lived near each other as adults but did not share the same residence.

As can happen, the daughter involved in the secret relationship became pregnant a few months ago. Both she and the child's father, who is her step-brother, decided they wanted to keep the child. They also decided now was the time to tell their family of their news and plans to marry.

Needless to say, the family was and remains horrified. John and Mary are in complete agreement the two should not marry and that the child should be put up for adoption. Their adult children all agree, except of course the affected couple. This has caused a huge rift, because the couple in question is continuing with their plans to marry and raise their child.

Technically, this relationship does not violate Australia's incest laws because the couple in question share no common relations. They are step-siblings, not half siblings. So there's no greater genetic danger than an ordinary unrelated couple would face.

The family involved, however, consider this incest, because the male and female in question were raised for several years as siblings.

Neither my husband nor I found this particularly shocking or appalling, but we've kept our opinions to ourselves, because people we know think differently. It's not our business to mind another family's business, but if these were our relations, we'd not try to stop it. If they love each other, then that's what matters, notwithstanding it is a little weird. It's sort of like incest but not actual incest, at least as far as the law is concerned, and their child faces no greater genetic danger.

I'm wondering if, with time, the family will welcome back the couple in question, who are now effectively shunned. They plan to live together openly in the community where the rest of the family lives, so that will surely create some tensions. The soon-to-be-born child also is the first grandchild for Mary and John, which could possibly have some influence on the final outcome.

Only time will tell how this all plays out for the family.

the nine wore black

Yesterday, the US Supreme Court decided two major cases. Chances are, most Americans barely noticed.

Until a few years ago, I found most news about the top court opaque at best. I had only the vaguest sense of how the court operated.

By chance, several years ago I discovered SCOTUSblog, an excellent and highly readable primer on the Supreme Court. While much of the writing is directed at lawyers and goes over my head, a good deal on the site is also written for the layperson like me. That latter part is highly informative.

In particular I like their "Plain English" section where the important cases are discussed in language for the general reader. I think I've learned more about the Supreme Court through that one column than through all other things I've read about the court combined.

Reading various news articles about important cases, I sometimes feel the writers don't really understand their topic and just parrot what people tell them. In contrast, the SCOTUSblog helps me understand why cases are important and their possible future impact.

If you're not familiar with the site and are at all curious about what the Supreme Court does, I highly recommend you check it out, particularly their "Plain English" feature.

My husband has told me repeated times he thinks that I'd be a good lawyer. Maybe so, but that would require me to get a college degree and then attend law school. Legal issues interest me but not that much to invest all that time and energy in school.