the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Month: March 2008 (Page 3 of 3)

Clinton or Obama?

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In all my years of following politics, I don’t recall a Democratic race being so close and and so embittered as the current race between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama.  Like in a Hollywood movie, these are two allies torn apart by the intensity of the political process.   Democrats usually rally behind a candidate by March.  Events are different this year.  Tensions are high as friends and families draw the lines in the sand — Clinton or Obama.  The Democratic Party has been splintered.  Liberals, progressives, men, women — these “categories” are now useless, as each demographic divides itself into smaller and smaller sub-groups.  Blacks, whites, Jews, union members — no one votes as a single bloc anymore.  Candidates and pollsters alike are scrambling to decipher what Democrats want and who to appeal to in this important election.

As of today, here is what the Democratic landscape looks like, according to the most recent polling:

Women over 50 who lived through the feminist movement:  Clinton

Women under 40 who know more about their vibrators than the feminist movement:  Obama

Voters who want change:  Obama

Voters who want change, but not as much as the other voters:  Clinton

Women who make over 100k — Clinton

Women who make over 100K but are divorced from a randy husband who was getting oral sex from his “intern” — Obama

Blacks who think Obama is too “white”  — Obama

Blacks who think Obama is too “black” — Obama

Blacks who owe favors to the Clintons — Clinton

Guilty Liberal Jews who say they love “rap music” just to look cool — Obama

Religious Jews who think Obama will nickname the White House the “First Mosque” — Clinton

Small Town Americans who have never met a black person, but feel comfortable with them  — Obama

Small Town Americans who have never met a black person, but still don’t like them — Clinton

Small Town Americans who have never met a black person, but still don’t like them, but have heard Clinton speaking on the TV — Obama

Misogynists — Obama

Racists — Clinton

Misogynists and Racists –  McCain

Misogynists and Racists who hate McCain – Clinton, because at least she doesn’t seem like a typical dame

Academics in Universities — Obama

Academics in Universities with Tenure — Ralph Nader (what do they care?!  They have a job!)

Asian male models who look gay, but aren’t — Obama

Women who buy Anne Taylor suits at the outlet mall — Clinton

Men who show their private parts on MySpace — Clinton

Men who go online and ask for photos of women in bras — Obama

Crest users — Obama

Colgate users — Clinton

Those who make love to Neil Diamond — Obama

Those who make love to Nine Inch Nails — Clinton

Those who know that Hillary Clinton and Hilary Duff spell their first name differently — Obama

Those who say, “Who’s Hillary Duff?” — Clinton

It is clear that this race is going down to the wire!

Happiness Project, Day 5 — Depending on Yourself

It is 2 AM, and I just woke up with, my thoughts urging me to rush to the computer and write this down. It’s as if therapy has finally knocked its way into my brain.

Here’s the thought. It may seem obvious to you, but I’m a slow learner:

Things are always going to fail if you’re always looking for someone or something else to make you happy.

Sure, the perfect relationship can help you be happy. Sure, getting a few photos of bras in the mail for your birthday will put a smile on your face. But when it comes down to it, you need to depend on yourself for your own happiness. Even finding Beyonce in your bed tomorrow morning is not going to change that, although it will go a long way in helping.

I can’t become dependent on bloggers for my happiness on my birthday, any more than I can put all my money on a spouse or significant other. Too much pressure all around. I’d love for you to say hello to me on my birthday, but I need to take care of myself, not depend on you to give it to me. It’s nice to get attention, but you shouldn’t need it. This is how I’m going to make this birthday as significant as my last birthday. I’m going to use all this therapy I’ve had, and be less neurotic this year.

I know this post has WTF written all over it. Feel free to mock the self-importance. I certainly would do that if YOU wrote it. That’s the one big danger of therapy. You begin to take this crap a little too seriously.

After the bra incident, I came up with a short list of things that made me happy, and asked you to send me photos of them. I’m sure some of you will. But, honestly, why wait? And why feel bad if NO ONE did. I can just as easily get the photos myself and enjoy them the same.

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Bras

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Bagels

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Pizza

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NYC Street Scenes

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ABBA

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Books by Charles Dickens

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Cool Men’s Belts

That wasn’t so hard, was it? I didn’t have to wait for my mother, my wife, or random bloggers to give it to me.

I did it myself.

Reader survey:

A) I love the new Neil. He’s so insightful.

B) He’s still completely dependent on anyone who smells nice. It’s all Bulls**t.

C) I have no idea what this post is about.

D) Bring back his Penis!

Third Post of the Day About the Bras

As some of you may notice, my last two posts have mysteriously disappeared.

(I just put them back. Some of you took the time to comment and it seems rude to take the posts down now)

In case you are just tuning into this channel, it is my birthday on Friday and I took it upon myself to ask some unusual requests, like asking for photos of your bras, not necessarily on you, or retro photos of bra advertisements.

But maybe it isn’t appropriate right now for my to be living my fantasy life so thoroughly online, considering my unsteady situation at home. I don’t want to look like a jerk or make you feel uncomfortable about Sophia, some of you who know her. The truth is — I was feeling needy at the time, the way most of us do before our birthday.

Another issue: maybe it isn’t very classy to ASK you for any photos. I don’t want to make anyone feel obligated, as if I would actually treat you any better because of it.

I guess I just want that same feeling of wow-ness, love, and affection that I felt last year on my birthday, when Sophia and Danny helped set up that amazing birthday for me, and so many of you were involved. There’s really no way to top that, even with bras.

I still look at the artwork I received, most of it near or over my desk. I still wear the t-shirts that tout your cities across the country. I don’t want to lie to Elisabeth, though. I’m still on book 1 of the Proust series that she send me. I’ll make it through the rest of the series, I promise… some day. Or at least see the movie.

For now, a happy birthday email or comment on Friday is more than enough for me.

When I move out, and feel lonely — then the bra photos will be MORE THAN WELCOME.

I know this whole thing is probably coming off as incredibly self-absorbed, but think of it as an insight into the modern urban male’s psyche and you’ll feel better about it.

I hope you enjoyed today’s “Bra Trilogy.”

Therapy 03/04/08

I just came out of therapy. This is how it went with my therapist, Brenda.

Therapist: Hi, Neil.

Neil: Hello, Brenda.

Therapist: How are you doing?

Neil: I want to show you something on the computer. My blog post today. I wrote it last night.

We both sit by her desktop.

Neil: Friday is my birthday.

Therapist: Happy early birthday.

Neil: This is sort of embarrassing, but I asked readers to send in photos of their bras.

Therapist: I’m reading that.

Neil: Now, I’m thinking the whole thing is just crazy. Why would I ask for women’s bras?

Therapist: Why do you think?

Neil: Maybe I’m just feeling horny and lonely now that I’m moving out soon.

Therapist: Then you wouldn’t just ask for bras hanging on towel racks, would you? It probably is deeper than that.

Neil: Well, what else could it be?

Therapist: Maybe the bra represents… women… blah blah… nurturing… we all… blah blah… need love… you are a man… blah blah… sexuality important… need comfort… mother… and breasts… blah blah…

Neil: Hmmm… if I asked you to show me your bra, would you do it?

Therapist: Sure.

Brenda lifts up her blouse to show me her frilly pink bra.

Neil: Thanks, Brenda.

Therapist: Anytime, Neil. But time’s up!

5) ABBA

6) Books by Charles Dickens

7) Cool Men’s Belts

Happiness Project, Day Four: Send in the Bras

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The Official “Bras for Happiness” badge

Neil: Hey, Penis, you want to come out and play?

Neil’s Penis: Nah, I’m depressed.

Neil: Wow, I never heard you say that before. I thought you NEVER got depressed.

Neil’s Penis: Well, you’ve finally done it, haven’t you? Proud? Now, I just want to sit around and watch American Idol.

Neil: I’m sorry. I guess I know how you feel. It’s because…

Neil’s Penis: Yes… and also…

Neil: …it’s our birthday on Friday…

Neil’s Penis: Woo-hoo, big deal.

Neil: You’re always so sarcastic, Penis. You don’t really mean that. We can still celebrate together.

Neil’s Penis: Celebrate what?! You have to admit this year’s birthday is gonna be a downer. Last year, Sophia arranged for our greatest birthday we ever had, thanks to all of those bloggers. This year, with Sophia and you…

Neil: Well, maybe other bloggers can come through again, cheering us up. They always do. Remember when we missed Fall, they emailed us photos of the foliage from the East Coast. And when we were lonely with Sophia away, they shared photos of their beds with us.

Neil’s Penis: Yeah, they are a special group. But now we’re at a low point. I can’t imagine anything they could give us that would be the pick-me-up we need.

Neil: I can. Remember when when we were teenagers, and we used to wait for the mail to come, so we could see the Macy’s circular, just so we can look at the bra ads.

Neil’s Penis: Of course, that’s one of my fondest memories.

Neil: Bras! The Magic of Bras can save the day.

Neil’s Penis: Bras? What do you mean?

Neil: Imagine if bloggers email us birthday photos of women in bras — retro Maindenform ads, Victoria Secret models — or even the most special gift of all — a photo of a female blogger’s OWN BRA. She doesn’t have to be wearing her bra. Her bra can be hanging in the shower or on the kitchen chair, or just sitting next to the dog on the bed. But it would be HER BRA — and I would know it!

Neil’s Penis: Brilliant, Neilochka. I think it might just work!

(I will be posting these photos, so if you actually email me a photo of YOUR BRA for my birthday and just want to keep it, uh, private… please tell me so. Otherwise, just send me a photo of a woman in a bra — any age, any race, any shape!)

(Why do I have the feeling like this post is going to get me booted out of BlogHer?)

(If I said this post was sponsored by Bali and was using this as a way to monetize my blog rather than just being a horny guy exploiting his birthday for selfish purposes, would that sound better?)

Send in those bras! My birthday is Friday. Neilochka at yahoo dot com.

Update: You can now email me photos of things other than bras.

An Interview with Yusuf Khatibbi

An Interview with Yusuf Khatibbi
(reprinted from Britain’s Pandora Magazine)

Reporter:  Yusuf, we’re sitting here in your apartment in Amman, Jordan.  You’re looking very content and at peace with yourself, but your former life was actually quite different, wasn’t it?

Yusuf:  Yes, very much so.

Reporter:  You were actually born as Neil “Neilochka” Kramer in Flushing, New York to Jewish parents.  What happened to you that spurred this dramatic change to your life?

Yusuf:  First of all, moving to Los Angeles was a low point.  Los Angeles is a den of iniquity.  I lived in an area called Redondo Beach, where young women would shamelessly walk around displaying their nubile bodies, causing me to constantly have immoral thoughts, which I would write about in my weblog, or “Devil’s Log,” as I now call it.

Reporter:  But surely, converting to Islam and moving to Jordan was an extreme step for a so-called “nice Jewish boy from Queens.”

Yusuf:  First of all, Amman and Los Angeles are not that different, so it was an easy transition.  They have the same stores.  Starbucks, Jiffy Lube,  and Bed, Bath, and Beyond on every block. 

Reporter:  But what made you reject your Jewish heritage?

Yusuf:  Reject it?  It rejected me!  Everything bad in my life was connected to being Jewish.  I was always worrying and kvetching about everything, and who’s to blame?  My Jewish mother!  Even her “Jewish food,” like her pot roast, was so laden with fat, that I ended up having to take cholesterol pills.  

Reporter:  Weren’t you also married to a Jewish woman? 

Yusuf:   A Jewish woman… who made me sleep in the car.   A shiksa would never do that.  I read the blogs of these shiksas.  They’re always catering to their men, serving them healthy meals, doing the laundry, and giving their men oral sex whenever they asked for it.   Jewish women are so materialistic.  Every time I offered to take my wife out for dinner, all she ever said was, “Can’t we go to a real restaurant… without the 2-1 coupon?!”  Non-Jewish women enjoy bargains, especially Muslim women.  They’re used to bartering at the Arab market.  And what about all the nutty Jews in Hollywood?   On Rosh Hashanah, there was this Jewish CAA agent sitting right behind me in temple, and he wouldn’t shut up about his lunch with Nicole Kidman!  Name-dropper!  You just don’t see that craziness going on at a mosque. 

Reporter:  But surely your mother must be upset at your rejection of your Jewish religion?

Yusuf:  Eh.  Maybe years ago.  Now, everything is publicity for her.  She’s currently trying to get the New Yorker magazine to write another article about her titled — Jewish Mom, Islamic Son.   That’s all Jews care about.  PR! 

Reporter:  And how do you now stand politically?  How do you feel about Israel and it’s relations with the Arab world?

Yusuf:  Phooey!  Israelis are pains in the asses!  Back in LA, my Israeli hair stylist, Aharon, would charge fifty bucks for a cut, extra for a shampoo, when I could have gotten the same thing done at Supercuts for ten.  And then, in Encino, the Israelis are always touting their falafel, as if it was THEY who invented it.  We’re the ones who created falafel — the Muslims, not them!   They’re a bunch of egomaniacs.

Reporter:  Yusuf, this is fascinating.   So many insights from a man who has crossed over from one culture to another.  Clearly you have finally “found” yourself by leaving behind your home, your family, and your religion —  and embracing Islam and moving to Jordan.

Yusuf:  Absolutely.  I just hope one day to see what my new girlfriend looks like when she takes off her burka. 

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