UPDATE: Thanks to everyone who sent in screen shots. They have all been most helpful, and you screen-shooters are A-Number 1 Blamers 4ever! You can stop sending them now. Thanks again.
Rootlesscosmo recently posted a recipe for butternut squash with a sweet’n’sour raisin-y, pine nutty wine/balsamic reduction (here), and I was all hot to make it, but dang! The squash in my crisper turned out to be a spaghetti instead of a butternut. Still, I soldiered on, and it was darn scrumptious. Not least because spaghetti squash is the most hilarious of all the edible squashes. As you know, hilarity is a dish best served with sweet & sour sauce.
Note: not wishing to imperil certain delicate balances in my stomach lining, I increased the wine in rootlesscosmo’s recipe, and decreased the vinegar, by half.
But this isn’t strictly a what-I-had-for-dinner post. As you may know, it’s Blog Software Upgrade Week here at I Blame the Patriarchy, and as usual, I’m in way over my head. Harken unto my desperate cry: take pity on me, O thou blamers who know how to do shit, and email me screen shots of 1) a post headline, and 2) a comments page in 1) Firefox 2) Safari 3) boutique browser of your choice. My eternagratitude will be yours.
Also, if you know from CSS, or whatever it is, how the hell to do I get the nested comments to indent more, or have boxes around them, or be numbered, or something?
I would ask my real-life friends to help me, but none of them reads the blog. I’m too much of a downer, apparently.
Speaking of real life and downers, one of my aged relatives just called to complain to me about this situation, displayed on the front page of this morning’s Dallas Morning News: Wrongfully convicted rapist gets exonerated after a 12-year hitch, and the Great State of Texas reimburses him $600,000. But along comes the IRS with jaws that bite and claws that catch, claiming non-rapist owes a third of the dough to the federal government.
Along with a sympathetic pang for the dude unjustly accused of rape, my relative harbors an abiding antipathy toward the IRS.
“Bastards!” says the aged relative, getting pretty fired up.
“Now see here,” I say, “you’d better give me the keys to the Cessna.”
No doubt the IRS are bastards, but one can’t help but note that there is no commensurate front-page public outpouring of outrage on behalf of the rape victims whose rapists are never convicted at all. Nobody’s payin’ them 50 grand a year for pain and suffering. No newspapers are running front-page articles spotlighting the government’s failure to render justice on their behalf. And for sure no relatives are callin’ me up to complain that the rape conviction rate in the UK is only 6%.
Wrongful conviction for rape strikes quite the chord of intense indignation. So melodious is this chord to the ears of patriarchy enthusiasts that there still rages, in 2010, a huge debate over whether a rape victim may be held responsible for her own rape.