oscar blunder

Like countless millions worldwide, I was confused about how such a serious error was made when the wrong movie was called for "Best Picture" the day before yesterday during the Academy Awards. (The live broadcast is actually on Monday in the middle of the day here in Australia.)

I'm sure I wasn't alone in feeling sorry for the people who thought they had won, only to have defeat wrenched from the jaws of victory when they were onstage. I have to think the memory of that will be painful for a long time.

A lot of people initially faulted Warren Beatty for the screwup but, as later media reports confirmed, he was not to blame. The Huffington Post published a helpful explanation for what exactly went wrong and how it happened.

The bottom line is Beatty was given the wrong category envelope because of backstage duplicates for every award.

IMHO, the procedure for distributing envelopes to the presenters, detailed in the linked article, seems unnecessarily cumbersome and it's a wonder more screw-ups haven't happened like this before.

The root of the problem seems to be "function follows form" -- the procedure is unnecessarily complicated because of a desire to have pretty presentation envelopes and presenters entering from both wings of the stage.

Oscar envelopes used to be the plain business variety, but because winners like to frame the card and envelope, they've become more elaborate and, in the case of the other night, more difficult to read. And because presenters enter from both sides of the stage, multiple sets of envelopes are available, which in turn could lead to the mishap that happened this year.

Whoever handed the envelope to Warren Beatty was ultimately to blame because the wrong category is clearly printed on the front. But the award ceremony director and/or producer should've had a fail-safe system by impressing upon the presenters to check that they had been given the right category envelope before proceeding onstage.

Accordingly, perhaps the procedures need to be simplified somewhat so once again "form follows function." Who cares if the envelopes look just like ordinary envelopes? And does it matter if the presenters only enter the stage from one side?

Hopefully the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will develop a new and better procedure to make certain this kind of error never happens again.

milan madness

New York's fashion week is followed almost immediately by Milan's equivalent, which is just winding down. The outfit seen below was part of designer Phoebe English's wall 2017 ready-to-wear collection.

English describes her line as a "luxury womenswear label creating garments with an attention to precision and beauty."

IMHO, the mess seen below is the antithesis of precision and beauty.

Her hair is plastered over her face like she's been crawling through shrubbery. Then she ties a scarf over those stray hairs so they're stuck on her mouth -- how is this beautiful?

The letters scrawled on her face look like something that might happen to a rape victim. It also brings to mind graffiti lipsticked on submissive women in BDSM porn, typically things like "use me" or "filthy whore."

The outfit itself is poorly constructed. You can see, for instance, by examining an enlargement of the photo how badly sewn the pocket is -- notice the uneven puckering?

In all honesty, this whole ensemble looks like something thrown together by someone escaping a fire in the middle of the night or an assault victim who somehow managed to escape her attackers.

To add insult to injury, considering the prices on other Phoebe English outfits currently for sale, the cost of this whole getup is at least several thousand dollars American.

funny and touching

This is a "spoken poem" by poet Neil Hilborn that's quite captivating. Nonetheless, I think it would've been a little stronger had he not talked so fast. Perhaps he was nervous.

I could also see Ryan Gosling performing this and breaking a million hearts inside a minute.

tiny tyrant

I'm trying to avoid writing about the current White House occupant, but this one is too good not to share.

Recently, a convergence of clever souls on Reddit joined together to collect the latest meme craze: TinyTrumps. Their handwork can be found on their official subreddit.

I hope this becomes a huge craze, considering they're sure to bruise you-know-who's extremely fragile ego and legendary thin skin if he happens to see any of them. Considering he often acts out like a spoiled child, I think it's particularly fitting to depict him as less than a man.

Many of the selections feature Vladimir Putin in some kind of domineering or patronizing role with the tiny chief executive. Hopefully this will rub extra salt in the wounds if the alleged President ever sees them.

I had a hard time picking a favorite to show here, but I settled on the one below (click to see enlargement). It captures both his smug puss and his absurd posturing all in one shot.

If you need to kill some time or divert your attention away from something disturbing like political news, I strongly suggest you click the link. There are already hundreds of images, and plenty I'm sure that will bring a smile to your face.

vagina lipstick glue

A chiropractor from Kansas has come up with what he thinks is a brilliant idea: a vaginal "lipstick" a woman can use instead of tampons or pads.

He describes the product as a "natural compound of amino acids and oil in a lipstick that is applied to the labia minora which causes them to cling together in a manner strong enough to retain menstrual fluid in the vestibule above the labia minora where the vaginal opening and urethra exit."

The idea is allegedly simple: you put the lipstick on your lady parts to glue them together and hold all the yucky stuff inside, then when you pee the glue will dissolve and the nasty business ends up in the toilet.

Not surprisingly, the product has been widely ridiculed on women's websites and social media.

To put it bluntly: you couldn't pay me enough to glue myself together down there. This sounds like a wonderful way to give yourself a glorious bacterial infection.

But my biggest fear would be: what happens if the glue doesn't come unstuck?

space proposal

Yesterday, NASA announced the discovery of a nearby star with seven orbiting earth-sized planets, three of which might have liquid water and thus be habitable.

The discovery was reported on NASA's webpage and in a more detailed article in Nature magazine.

"Nearby" is relative, of course. The neighboring star system is about thirty-nine light years from earth.

I'm certainly no scientist but, from what I've read, experts pretty much agree space flight could never be faster than the speed of light but could come fairly close.

So that means if future earthlings decided to send a manned craft to this newly discovered star system, it would probably take at least forty years to get there. Thus, a one-way trip would almost be a certainty.

Who would want to take such a long voyage with an uncertain outcome? I doubt many would be interested.

So here's my modest proposal: send people serving life-imprisonment terms. They're already acclimated to spending most of their time in tight spaces so they have nothing to lose.

As a result, they might possibly receive a reprieve from facing a life in prison. Travel forty years in space and, if you find a habitable planet, you've earned your freedom on that new, far world.

A careful process would be necessary to select men and women who have significantly reformed themselves in prison but could not be trusted to be released on earth. Instead, they have a chance to be space pioneers and begin population of a new planet.

Think of it as an interstellar version of Australia, which was first colonized by Britain's convicts.

dementia

Singer and actor David Cassidy announced yesterday that he has dementia. He is 66 years old, and both his mother and grandfather suffered from dementia.

Based on what I've read, he did not appear to reveal whether or not he had Alzheimer’s. His mother had been diagnosed with that malady about ten years before she died. Of course, many people have dementia but do not have Alzheimer’s.

Like many people today, I have a history of non-Alzheimer’s dementia in my family. My paternal grandmother is in her nineties and has had slowly progressing dementia for more than two decades but does not have Alzheimer’s.

I last saw my grandmother almost ten years ago, and she had no idea who I was. This was true for virtually every one of her relatives, save one of her sons, who was still recognized by her.

Now, a decade later, she has long forgotten who even that son is. She hasn't spoken in years and sits in a chair all day although otherwise has no serious health issues.

She can no longer feed or care for herself and lives in a facility for people like her. She still is able to walk if she's led somewhere but cannot understand anything anyone says to her. In short, she's like a zombie.

So there's a chance, if a meaningful cure for dementia is not found in the next four or five decades, that I may end up like her. Because I see people with dementia at the care home where we regularly visit our home's owner, I often think about people in their twilight years who are losing their memory and cognitive skills.

Would it be better to fade away with no idea of who you are but suffering no pain, or would it be better to remain sharp until your final days but live in serious pain? My paternal grandfather died of a very painful form of cancer but remained sharp up until the last hour of his life.

Considering one against the other, if I could choose, I think I'd pick the long, slow fadeout. Both are terrible ways to go, but I think dementia is slightly less terrible.

bathmat chic

The latest New York's fashion week is winding down and, once again, fuzzy faux fur was seen all over the place. Two examples from designer Dion Lee's Fall 2017 collection are seen below.

To be blunt, I think clothes like these are unflattering, ugly, and cheap looking. I just don't understand their appeal. The first woman below looks like a Muppet.

Yes, I know all art and fashion is subjective, but why does it seem the fuzzy faux fur look is not often seen outside of fashion runways? It seems like the rag biz is trying to push a look on consumers they aren't embracing.

I have always believed fashion should be flattering. The fashion industry, however, seems to be more and more about making people look foolish, as these other photos from Lee's collection demonstrate.

The women are also sporting a new trend in cosmetics that I also find unflattering -- a smudged line above the eye that's not shaded. I think it makes them look like they've had a crying jag or some sort of eye infection.

too much disclosure?

Noah Dyer is running for governor of Arizona. To get ahead of any possible sex scandal, he has released the following statement:

"Noah has had both deep and casual sexual experiences with all kinds of women. He is an advocate of open relationships. He has sent and received intimate texts and pictures, and occasionally recorded video during sex. Noah has always been forthright with his partners, seeking the same in return. All of his relationships have been legal and consensual, never coercive, or abusive, and he condemns such behavior. Noah is unapologetic about his sexual choices, and wishes others the same."

This is not the only public disclosure he's made. In fact, his releases are voluminous. He has published detailed statements about everything from his personal finance to his divorce to his hobbies to his thoughts on a wide variety of subjects, many of which have nothing to do with Arizona.

Lest you think he's not releasing enough information, Noah also has made countless hours of unedited documentary video footage available online. These were made with an unattended camera in his home photographing him in mundane ordinary tasks.

In the event you still can't find enough information about Noah, he's also released his personal telephone numbers as well as those of his closest friends. Call any time, Noah encourages.

It will be interesting to see if his campaign gets much traction.

big-ass logos

There's an independent store not to far from us that sells close-outs and odd lots. It's something like TJ Maxx in the United States except it's a large mom-and-pop place with only one location.

Because they have a never-ending and changing stream of merchandise, I shop there a fair bit, particularly for the kids but sometimes for my husband and myself. I've found some obscenely good deals on women's and children's shoes.

I stopped in yesterday to see what they had that wasn't there before. I picked up some things for Tombo and a nice polo shirt for my husband that was extravagantly discounted.

I almost bought several Nike T-shirts but then decided against them because they violated my "no logos" rule. That's a fairly simple rule I imposed on myself long ago; it's one I know other people follow, too, including my husband.

The no-logo rule is pretty basic: wear no clothes with large manufacturer logos or slogans. So a shirt with a huge Nike logo on the chest violates that rule and is not to be worn.

I don't have anything against corporations or designers. Certain manufacturers have a reputation for a high quality, well made products, and I'll buy those when they're on sale.

The polo shirt I bought for my husband yesterday, for instance, is a designer label and has a very small, recognizable designer crest on one side of the chest. That's perfectly acceptable because you can't see it from more than a foot or two away.

But I'm not your frickin' billboard. You want me to walk around advertising your product in five-inch letters, you're gonna have to pay me.

felonious fashion

Back in 2015, I wrote an entry about how felon Jeremy Meeks had become a media sensation because of an allegedly sexy mugshot. He garnered so much attention that he signed a modeling contract while still doing time.

He's been out of prison nearly a year and managed to keep himself out of trouble. This past week he was back in the headlines after he appeared on a catwalk at New York Fashion Week while modeling fall menswear.

That's a lucky break for him but, in all seriousness, what did he do that warranted him all this attention? Basically, it's this: he managed to appear in a mugshot that looked more like a model's headshot photo.

I know a lot of models, both male and female, who managed never to get themselves arrested and instead made honest livings while trying to build a modeling career. What life lesson do they take away from the Meeks story? Work hard and get behind?

Yes, ex-cons deserve a second chance, but they don't deserve special treatment. They shouldn't be moved to the head of the line around others who never break the law.

I know, modeling is a subjective business and it's nothing like fair. But it just sort of sucks that Meeks is getting all of this attention and he didn't put in any hard work to get where he landed.

squirrel-free zone

One curious fact I learned shortly after moving to Australia -- there are no squirrels here. I'd always thought squirrels were found throughout the world, except for possibly Antarctica, but that was wrong.

Squirrels are so ubiquitous in North America and Europe that it still seems a little strange to me to see a large open space or park without any of the hardy little rodents. When I was a child, I loved feeding the squirrels, and that's an activity I'm sure my boys would enjoy.

North American gray squirrels were introduced here in the 1880s but eventually became extinct. I don't know whether that happened intentionally or Mother Nature took care of them.

I was playing some YouTube squirrel videos for the children the other day and they enjoyed the little critters' antics. For them, the squirrel must seem like an exotic foreign creature, yet for an American, they're arguably the most common form of wildlife seen in the United States.

watergate 2.0?

Richard Nixon and Watergate were long before my time. Much of what I know about that era I learned from my late, beloved grandfather.

He was a Republican who became a Democrat during the Nixon years. Decades after Nixon was gone, he would still talk with great enthusiasm about how he was the worst crook ever elected to office.

This makes me wonder what my grandfather would think of the current White House occupant and the exploding scandal involving Russia and General Flynn. Would that make Granddad rethink his declaration that Nixon was the worst crook?

I'm starting to see headlines comparing the current scandal and cover-up to Watergate. There certainly seem to be some parallels but also some important differences, too.

Republicans were the minority party in Congress during the Watergate years. When the necessary number appeared ready to join with the majority Democrats and impeach Nixon, he resigned to spare them the trouble.

As everyone knows, Republicans are not the minority party today in Congress. A lot more of them would have to turn on their own President to give an impeachment effort the necessary momentum.

The problem with a mushrooming scandal like this is there are so many news stories about subordinate issues that it's difficult to see the big picture all in one glance. To that end, Bill Moyers' website has an excellent timeline of who knew what and did what when.

How will this all play out? It's anybody's guess, but it's interesting -- and scary -- to be living through history like this. Hopefully all will end well. That happiest ending would be for You-Know-Who to be retired to a cozy federal penitentiary.

nude once more

After publishing for a year without nudity, Playboy magazine is doing a 180 and bringing back naughty bits permanently, starting with the issue going on sale later this month.

I wrote in this blog more than a year ago that I thought the no-nude policy was a major mistake and apparently the magazine's management came to the same conclusion. This about-face suggests their circulation plummeted after the change.

As if they read my entry back then, Playboy says it will be updating how it depicts nudity. They also will bring back some of its popular content like the "party jokes."

It will be interesting to see if the magazine can hit its stride again or if this nudity reversal merely be another re-arrangement of the proverbial deck chairs.

grammy getups

Browsing through photos of this year's Grammy show on Sunday night, it appears a sizable percentage of celebrities and musicians dressed for attention and not compliments. E! has a good slideshow of the biggest names.

The most discussed outfit arguably was worn by Stefani Germanotta, better known as Lady Gaga, who came dressed like a porn star (see photo below). I don't think she's a beautiful woman, but she is striking, so it's a shame she didn't try to get attention with a unforgettable yet gorgeous gown.

When did music become so clownish? One performer arrived on the red carpet in filthy jeans and a torn T-shirt. What kind of statement was he trying to make, other than he's a narcissistic slob?

Some big names obviously wanted to make a stylish statement, and while I think some of them chose the wrong outfit for their body shape, at least they tried.

As for Lady Gaga, she's like Madonna in many ways and is becoming trapped in her own universe. She keeps trying to one-up herself, but I think she ends up looking foolish at times as a result.

the aristotelian perversion

I've never really understood the attraction of pony girls. This kink is sometimes referred to as the "Aristotelian Perversion" because Aristotle is said by some to have favored being ridden like a equine by women.

In modern pony play, a woman dresses and acts like a pony, typically while nearly or fully naked and wearing a harness, pony ears, and pony hooves.

So what is erotic about a woman pretending to be a pony? Ponies are inherently unerotic creatures -- they're docile, thickly built, gentle creatures.

The woman seen below isn't sexy because she's trying to look like a pony (and failing at that). She's sexy because she looks like a desirable, attractive woman.

Pony play involves dominance and subservience, but you can have that without dressing up like a pony. That's about attitudes and behavior, not costumes.

But if you're really into pony girls, I'm sure my commentary here will fall on deaf ears. If pony play rings your chimes, knock yourself out -- it's not my place to tell you what not to do.

Freedom means you're free to do something, even if it makes no sense, as long as you're not hurting anyone else.

plate spinners

Plate spinning is one of those perfectly pointless but nonetheless fascinating and commendable skills. I'm afraid I would never have the patience to learn to do something like this. I usually want something tangible for my labors.

creepy funny

I've always found ventriloquist dummies to be creepy, probably because of the eyes. I vaguely remember seeing a horror movie when I was in early elementary school that involved a demonic dummy killing his ventriloquist. That memory may have been the genesis.

So the meme seen here struck me as doubly creepy because of the subject matter. If the puppeteer does not look familiar to you, he is believed by many to be the power behind the throne. (Read that article in the link, by the way -- it's a good one.)

Fear of ventriloquist dummies actually has a name -- automatonophobia. If you feel tense, upset, and/or stressed when you see one, than you may be a sufferer.

I don't feel that way; I just don't like them because they're creepy. I wouldn't go out of my way to avoid one.

When I was about eight or so, I found a book in my grandparents' attic about how to teach yourself ventriloquism. My grandfather said it probably belonged to either my father or one of his brothers or possibly one of my grandfather's brothers.

I still remember some of the techniques and use them from time to time in simpler sentences to amaze Joey. I wish I had that book today so he could learn, too, when he gets old enough.

the red river

I laughed at some of the anecdotes in this article on bizarre beliefs people have about menstruation.

I can understand why men might be confused -- they weren't paying attention in health class -- but how can women be so mixed up about something their own bodies are doing?

I have an eccentric great aunt who never married and who I haven't seen since I was twelve. I remember on one visit how she declared that only virgins have periods.

Apparently she thought it was a badge of honor that virgins must endure. I could see where she got this idea originally -- her own mother had fourteen children, so she probably never had much chance to menstruate -- but you'd think by old age someone would have straightened auntie out.

presidential hunk

I was reading about Teddy Roosevelt the other day online and saw some pictures from when he was a student at Harvard University. The photos don't like: Teddy was a hottie, as you can see in the shot below.

He also looks pretty buff without his shirt, a few years later.

Once he passed his mid-twenties, however, he seems to have thickened up in the body and took to wearing his trademark glasses and scowl, so the hotness factor dialed way, way back.

I've only read generally about Teddy and never a book-length biography, which I plan on remedying very soon. He arguably was one of our best Presidents and certainly miles ahead of the preening boob that currently occupies the White House.

What amazes me most about Teddy was how he died at only sixty, which was somewhat young even for 1919. He was always very physically active but died rather suddenly of a blood clot in his lungs.

Havard has more interesting Roosevelt material on their official blog for those looking to learn more about the 26th President.

smacked in the face

After we put the kids to bed, I often surf the internet while The Husband does some quick chores. Because this usually comes after a long day, I sometimes nod off right at the computer while sitting in my armless chair.

Usually when this happens I just doze sitting up. Sometimes I tip over and wake up with my face literally in the keyboard.

On infrequent occasions I fall right out of the chair. Sometimes I wake up before I hit the floor but other times I don't.

The entire house has hardwood floors so there are rugs everywhere. When I fall on the floor, at least a rug provides some padding.

The night before last, however, I really did a number on myself. I had nodded off to sleep, and then as I fell on the floor, I smacked my mouth and nose on the edge of the table before I landed.

The table is solid walnut, so it hurt like a bitch. My immediate concern was that I had broken my nose, so I gently wiggled that and everything seemed in good order.

It goes without saying that I bled like a stuck pig. Blood coursed from both nostrils and also from a cut on my lip.

I managed to clean myself up and stuffed toilet tissue in my nostrils to stop the bleeding. After the initial impact, the pain dissipated pretty quickly but both my mouth and nose were still sore.

I then put an icepack on my face to keep down the swelling. James came back in the house after I had cleaned myself up and was immediately Mister Worried at what I had done to myself.

Yesterday I was able to clean all the dried blood out of my nose in my morning shower. I put petroleum jelly and a bandage on my lip to prevent scarring; I'll leave that on a few days because the cut was not serious.

So now I have a bandage mustache and visible bruising on my upper lip and nose. It looks like I was in a boxing match. I haven't gone out in public so no reactions yet. I'm thinking in a few days that I can take off the bandage and hide the remaining damage with makeup.

Needless to say, I have already replaced the side chair with an arm chair so I will not repeat my little stunt.

death lessons

Last week Joey found a dead bird in the last yard and took me to see. It did not appear to have flown into anything, based on where it dropped, so I guess it just reached the end of its natural life.

That led to a teaching moment where we talked about death and how it differed from sleeping.

Like most four-year-olds, our son does not seem to have a full understanding of death's finality. I've read that the concept of death isn't fully understandable by children until they reach age six or so.

Over the weekend, I told Joey I had to replace batteries in a flashlight. As kids his age are wont to do, he asked "why?"

I said "because the old batteries died" and then immediately realized that was a mistake.

His little face was seriously confused. "Like the bird?" he asked very uncertainly.

I then tried to explain, as simply as possible, about how we sometimes adopt words for other uses. I think I probably ended up confusing him more than anything. Either that or he thinks his mother is a moron.

Sometimes it seems parenting is the hardest job in the world.

butt implants

I saw a woman out in public over the weekend who I'm fairly certain had butt implants. She was quite svelte with a tiny waist but had overly round, fake-looking tits and an abnormally large ass.

Butt implants are seen more and more frequently now in porn stars and exotic dancers, not to mention the real world, too. I'm left wondering -- who the hell would want them?

IMHO, your ass, just like your tits, should look as normal as possible. If you butt or your boobs are far too large for the rest of your build and your frame, they look fake.

Countless millions of women lament the fact that their ass is too big. They diet, they exercise, but they still can't rid themselves of the bigger-than-desired bumper.

I'm fortunate that I have a small ass and plan to keep it that way. So I just don't understand why women would want to give themselves a fat ass -- for life.

Yes, I know some men are really into girl booty, but I'd think they would want a woman with a real ass, not a fake one.

When I was Googling around for a good photo of butt implants, I happened on this video of an actual butt implant procedure. I assume that's liposuction he's doing toward the beginning, which to my untrained eye looks particularly rough and careless.

The plastic surgeon performing the procedure added a note about how long the recovery takes: three weeks of no sitting at all, then two and a half months sitting on a cushion, and three months wearing the girdle. The procedure itself costs about $12,000 American.

You could not pay me enough money to endure this nonsense. Months of pain for that? And are you supposed to stand for three weeks? Lie on your stomach?

I'm left wondering, after you recover, if it feels like you're wearing a loaded diaper the rest of your life.

potty mouth

I'm of the belief that lipstick, like hair color, should be a shade that could at least possibly occur in nature.

I saw this girl's photos on a porn page and she immediately reminded me of why I don't like ultra-dark lipstick -- it doesn't appear natural and, instead, as if you ate something nasty.

IMHO, this girl looks like she ate mud or something worse. Brown lipstick appears, well, shitty. Would any normal heterosexual male be attracted to a woman with poopy lips?

I usually wear only one shade of lipstick when I wear it at all -- bright, vivid, classic red. I've always found it's a magnet for men.

I don't know any woman who doesn't look better with red lipstick. It's tried and true and it works.

So why go down to brown?

needlessly confrontational

I've been largely avoiding discussions here of the unstable clown in the White House, but I'm compelled to write today about how badly he eroded US/Australian relations inside only a few minutes.

In case you've been living in a cave and haven't heard, the unstable clown telephoned Australia's Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull and, after his usual bragging and self-aggrandizement, the conversation quickly turned hostile when they discussed an already agreed-upon deal to resettle a small number of refugees in the United States. The White House clown then abruptly hung up the phone.

It was an appalling episode in diplomacy (or lack thereof, actually). Vox has a good overview of how this sorry debacle unfolded.

The media here is reporting widely about the stunned and sideswiped Australian government in the call's aftermath. How could a close friend suddenly turn so hostile over the most minor of incidents? Like Britain and Canada, Australia is in the core group of the United States' closest allies.

(I should add at this point that my Australian husband spent the large part of his military career in a support capacity for the US military, something common to a great number of Aussie service members.)

In the aftermath, no fewer than three US Senators -- two Republicans and a Democrat -- have reached out to Australia's ambassador in Washington to reassure its battered ally.

Only two weeks in office, the unstable clown in the White House has burned a number of important bridges with important allies in various parts of the world -- with the exception of Russia. This will only serve to make China a stronger world power, given how it is a leading trading partner with the spurned countries.

When will politicians in Washington wake up to the fact that the unstable clown in the White House is a danger to both America and the world? Already 40 percent of voters think he should be impeached after he's been in office only two weeks.

Every concerned American should fax and email copies of the 25th Amendment to cabinet members and their congressional representatives, reminding them of why that exists. The time is soon coming to bounce the unstable clown out on his substantial ass.

the morality police

The lovely woman wearing pink in the picture below is being cautioned in Tehran by Iran's morality police about sporting her headscarf too loosely. The drab policewoman in the tent on the left is wearing more "appropriate" attire.

I cannot believe women in 2017 have to put up with this crap. Not only that, the woman on the left should be ashamed of herself for perpetuating this enforced second-class status.

Some Iranian women organize protests on occasion and will briefly appear in public without a head covering, but civil disobedience can be dealt with harshly. Women are regularly arrested, prosecuted, and convicted of immorality for showing too much head and hair in public.

What's even more annoying is the fact that Iranian women did not wear the hijab -- the traditional headscarf -- until the Iranian Revolution in the late 1970s. Then like an Orwell plot gone bad, the religious dictators forced women back under the veil.

The restriction is not imposed on Muslim women in Iran but all women, regardless of nationality or faith. That means if I were to visit Iran, I would be forced to wear one or face possible expulsion from the country.

Not only would I be sorely tempted to remove the headscarf, as some Western women do briefly when visiting Iran, I'd want to show some bare arm and leg as well. Hell, if I was angry enough, I might even take my top off entirely.

Thankfully, I won't face such temptation. Even though I am married to an Australian, I am nonetheless an American citizen, and without diplomatic relations between the US and Iran, visiting the country is extremely difficult, particularly with the current freeze in place.

Besides, I would rather visit a free country as opposed to one forcing women to live in a medieval era.

flammable mystery

Yesterday shortly after my husband and I were awake, I was standing at our bedroom window and staring out into the street as I was organizing my day in my head. It was just at dawn so not fully light outside.

I noticed a car approaching moving quite slowly down the street and that caught my attention. We don't live on a dead end but there's almost no through traffic, so it looked like someone was trying to find an address.

Then I noticed something burning somewhere around where the driver's door was. A tree partly blocked the view, but I could clearly see something on fire. My first instinct was that the car was in fire but the driver was unaware.

The car continued slowly to the point where I could see the driver holding something in his hand outside the car that was clearly burning -- it looked like a handkerchief or a piece of paper he had set on fire. He then dropped it in the street, where it continued to burn for a few more seconds in a flame about two feet high.

He continued driving on and then did it again, dropping a small lit object out the window into the road. It flared into flame and then burned out in a few seconds just like the first one.

He did this two or three more times until disappearing out of sight. He set a total of four or five items aflame in the time that I saw him.

My husband came to the window when I called him, so he saw several of the objects being lit on fire. He then hustled out to the street but could find utterly no trace of what had burned -- no ash, no residue, no scorched marks.

It was not windy nor even breezy and no other cars had driven by. Whatever was set on fire completely burned without leaving any trace whatsoever. So it was obviously not cloth or ordinary paper because that would have left some kind of residue.

I'm left wondering if this was some covert operative who decided to use our street to dispose of notes on disappearing paper. Maybe I've read too many espionage novels, but I could not come up with any other suggestion, and my husband was stumped, too.

celebrity dopplegangers

Somebody with way too much time on their hands has collected together a gallery with about two dozen ordinary people around the world with uncanny resemblances to famous people.

The curious twist of the assemblage is that the dopplegangers frequently are of a different race or ethnicity or gender from the celebrity in question. There's the Chinese Vladimir Putin, the Asian Brad Pitt, the Indian Mark Ruffalo and more.

In all honesty, I think some of them are a little stretch. Others, however, are creepy how they really look like they could be related.

I think my favorite is the pudgy Russian guy from some government agency who bears a strong resemblance to Leonardo Di Caprio, particularly if the latter started eating several dozen doughnuts a day.