Today, I woke up to the news that Warren had quit the running. I stewed for awhile and then listened to Taylor Swift's "The Man" a couple times, then stewed some more, mostly because it reminded me of an accusation more than a decade ago by one of my fellow MFA-ers that my work and other women were successful in writing only because we were women. That presses devoted to women, to queers, to POC, were unfair. As a dude, he had it rougher, Then I went to work, where I set back to working on my questions for tonight's panel, which went splendidly, and bought up some interesting questions about future visions and utopias, and how we process that as artists. In the description for the exhibit I mention the imperfect present--a present that seems to get more and more imperfect day by day. I hung more art and put the finishing touches on the exhibit. I stewed some more. One of the pieces by Audra Jacot is a series of what she calls breasticles--ceramic figures that are both feminine and masculine at the same time, but very much resemble an anthromorphic penis figure that becomes more erect with each iteration. Later I came home, ate pasta, and read an article about how Bill Clinton justified his Lewinsky affair in light of dealing with anxiety.
In this land of penises I am tired. Most likely Clinton's affair had more to do with his fragile male ego and the fact that his wife was no longer dazzled by his shine. Young women, for older men, more often bring a sense of awe they'll never get from anyone over 30 who have seen this shit before. People cheat for many reasons, but that's a top contender. In a land of penises, the penises really just want someone to laugh at their dumb jokes and be impressed by their mediocrity. So which mediocre white man do you want to be your president? They have different ideologies, and different levels of monstrosity, but they are the same creature. Yelling at each other across lecterns and comparing how many push-ups they can do. It's tiring. They are tiring.
The tenant seems to be that of a woman runs for president, you find a reason to attack her (real or imaginary.) Barring that, you simply ignore that she exists, in polls, in media coverage. And then she dissappears like most women in the land of penises, I'm tired.
