I am thinking about two things today. One: still thinking about Miss USA and people bocking over the fact that she participated in a pole dancing competition before she was crowned, which violates the morality agreement that is part of the rules participants have to agree to.

I started thinking about why this morality clause even exists in the first place. Are these young women really role models? Is there anyone outside of the pageant world who points to the contestants and says to their children, “Honey, this is your future?” Rah tah to women (and men) trading in large part on their looks to win fabulous cash prizes and scholarships, but does it really matter if the “Miss” in question has ever given birth or has acted as a parent (see rule 2)? Is there are rule against men becoming fathers in these contests? I could not find a morality clause for men.

This leads me to conclude, because I like making crazypants leaps like Caitlin Flanagan, that even beyond  the surface “Hey here are some bitches in a bikini” these pageants are  about some antiquated idea of sexual desirability. I think if they could get away with it, they would ensure the face of Jesus appears on every contestant’s intact hymen. Who cares if you’ve even been pregnant? The last time I checked abortion was legal, and also none of anyone else’s business. What if you are a mother? SO WHAT?

I spent most of my twenties married, in some kind of self-imposed sequestered state, during which I balked at even wearing a skirt that fell above the knee, but I think if my life would have gone differently or I was ten years younger, I would probably have some kind of interesting mini-scandal up my sleeve from my twenties or late teens. Our culture is pretty freaking sexualized/pornified to the point where I almost think it would be difficult to avoid. And why should people avoid it, if they are going to live public life where they are trading on their looks or sexuality? I’d say the Miss America/USA pageants are kind of the exception.

Here’s the answer: bimbo cloisters. Does your preschooler have promising bone structure? Lock her up now, before she puts her Miss Body Shots 2027 pics on whatever passes for Facebook in the future times.

Thing the second is that I really enjoyed a look at the dementia prediction issue on Radiolab called “Vanishing Words.” It’s about Agatha Cristie’s language decay in her final books and about the study they did on the nuns to see who lost their marbles later. Wouldn’t you love to know if batshit or confusion is in your future? I wish there was some kind of device that could measure your last good day, before you hurt the people who love you by forgetting who they are, or before you get lost, or cannot remember what happened for a few decades in there. That is when I would like to die–in my sleep on that last perfect day when you are all there. I find this program heartening because it says that people who write like overeager beavery maniacs  and less in a journalistic, carefully plotted fashion have a better chance of being non-nuts. Or maybe it means that you’re nuts now, ha ha! Well. Run on sentences full of mixed metaphors for the win.

Off to a dinner party tonight to discuss Omnivore’s Dilemma. More like OmniBORE amirite. Seriously, I would rather get a pap smear because at least that will be over in ten minutes. I’m going to get drunk and keep my fucking mouth shut. Will update.