Count the mixed metaphors in this one sentence and that will set the mark for all future competitors:
Biden’s twin-barreled economic offensive faces numerous hurdles but has sparked billions of dollars of private-sector investment and changed entrenched corporate practices.
Had you even realized that Biden had been relying "on market" and avoiding "broader government role"? That's just silly, and it's why I wrote "Fawning over Biden," but I'm interested in counting the metaphors in that one sentence.
Do you see the 6 that I see? Any others?
By the way "a carrot — and a stick" is also a metaphor, but I think the headline writer intended to refer to "carrot or stick," because "carrot and stick" is this:
Today's Facebook image has only female humans — one old and one young. The old one — Facebook must have chosen this specifically for me — is knowable as old because her hair is white and she's wearing glasses and white anklets and she has cats — one to pet and one perched on her back. Maybe her back aches — her non-cat-petting hand is in the oh-my-aching-back position. How long has she been bent over in the go-ahead-and-sit-on-my-back position? This woman Facebook thinks is me has a head so empty that the shape of the cat shows through it. Why can't I stand up and heave this beast off my back? How long have I been petting the standing cat? Perhaps for all eternity in this blackish-purple limbo.
The woman who Facebook has determined does not represent me is squatting grasping a rabbit and attempting to interest it in a carrot. Unlike normal cartoon rabbits, this rabbit is blasé about a carrot. Unlike normal cartoon humans, this woman has 5 fingers, and it looks like too many fingers, thus explaining, at long last, why normal cartoon character hands have 4 fingers.
The cat in the foreground contemplates a ball of yarn. Like the rabbit with the carrot, the cat does not react to the yarn like a normal cartoon cat. This thing that should be so exciting — yarn! to a cat — is lackluster, something to be gazed at with ennui, like the tiny world itself. The world of Facebook, where groups are at the heart, and the group their sophisticated algorithms have offered to me is, apparently, cats. Or rabbits. Or aching backs. Or anklets (yes, the "I Wear Anklets" group! I must join!). Or see-through bulbous hairdos. Or Forcing Carrots on Rabbits. Or Gazing Ennui-Filled at a Symbol of the World.
"I think my movies are more novelistic than journalistic and I think when my films work, they work because you feel you’re present in the sequence that you’re watching and hearing. I like the sense of immediacy that it gives."
“I’ve made movies in 17 states, but I never made one in the Middle West before, with the exception of a public housing film in Chicago. I thought it would be interesting to make a movie about a small town in the Middle West,” he tells Deadline. “A friend of mine told me about Monrovia and I visited it, liked what I saw, and started to make a movie there.”
He filmed on hog farms, in cornfields, at a Masonic lodge, Lions Club, high school, veterinary clinic, tattoo parlor, barbershop, restaurant, a baby shower, a wedding and more. The film contains moments of conversation between townspeople, including some old duffers at a diner who discuss a recent experience eating carrots....
Monrovia is overwhelmingly white, nestled within a county that Donald Trump carried in 2016 with more than 75% of the vote. Wiseman shows the intrinsic role of Christian traditions in daily life (“People are very religious,” he states) but he doesn’t overtly address the politics hovering in the background. Some critics would have preferred he confront red state mentalities.
“That’s the film they want to make. That’s not the film I want to make,” he declares. “I don’t like to make obvious films.”
You can see the carrot scene in the trailer for the movie:
"And now we have the other parent. We thought it’d feel fun — maybe it feels fun for now because we can eat candy all day and stay up late and not follow the rules."
I don't really understand the idea of the "good parent"/"bad parent." In a stereotypical traditional family, you might have one parent who's softer and more empathetic and the other who's more about strict enforcement of the rules, but aren't both responsible? If not, did Michelle just unwittingly take a shot at mothers and even, obliquely, at the Democratic Party (the "mommy party")? And Michelle's idea of the rule-enforcing parent sounds more like the mother, who's generally the one concerned with getting you to eat your vegetables (and, indeed, Michelle Obama made getting kids to eat vegetables her cause). But usually it's the father who gets portrayed as the "bad cop" in a "good cop"/"bad cop" routine that might describe some families of the wait-'til-your-father gets home kind.
So I don't know what kind of family she's envisioning — or even if she's presenting her husband as the mother or the father.
What she's talking about seems more like the contrast between any parent and some weird interloper like the Cat in the Hat:
Now, the script says onion rings, because that's what the Sopranos were eating in that final scene, but I doubt if any blogger will disagree with my assertion that, coming from Bill Clinton, the "O" of an onion ring is a vagina symbol. Hillary says no to that, driving the symbolism home. She's "looking out" all right, vigilant over her husband, denying him the sustenance he craves. What does she have for him? Carrot sticks! The one closest to the camera has a rather disgusting greasy sheen to it. Here, Bill, in retaliation for all of your excessive "O" consumption, you may have a large bowl of phallic symbols! When we hear him say "No onion rings?," the camera is on her, and Bill is off-screen, but at the bottom of the screen we see the carrot/phallus he's holding toward her. Oh, yes, I know that Hillary supplying carrots is supposed to remind that Hillary will provide us with health care, that she's "looking out for" us, but come on, they're carrots! Everyone knows carrots are phallic symbols. But they're cut up into little carrot sticks, you say? Just listen to yourself!...
But now that there's a dispute about the column — discussed in the previous post — so I'm going to read it closely. The dispute is ostensibly about writing anything about the Michelle Obama/Valerie Jarrett conversation Givhan had access to, but I suspect some of the anger at Givhan has to do with the substance of the column — a failure to genuflect and adulate? — so now I want to read the whole thing carefully.
The occasion [for the Obama/Jarrett conversation] was the opening evening of Leading Women Defined, a private gathering of supremely accomplished black women organized by Debra Lee and BET aimed at networking and uplift.
Supremely accomplished? So far, this is fawning. But the point is that Michelle Obama usually does lucrative speeches to a big audience of whoever chooses to pay to attend, and this was "a far more intimate crowd."
Topic #1: The scene at the White House on Trump's Inauguration Day. Michelle cried but didn't want to be seen looking like she'd cry, she was surprised by that Tiffany box, and when she waved from Marine One, leaving the White House, what she thought was “Bye, Felicia!” ("Bye, Felicia" has its own Wikipedia page. It means: Get out of my face!)
Topic #2: Michelle had to work at not being perceived as angry. "I had to learn how to deliver a message," basically by smiling all the time and not showing so much passion. Givhan writes: "And here the audience murmured understandingly, because they all knew what it means to be called angry when really you’re just emphatic."
Topic #3: Michelle's hurt pride. "With two Ivy League degrees and a résumé that included executive positions in hospital and city management, she was dismayed that people seemed to question whether she could handle being first lady."
Topic #4: The real meaning of the vegetable garden. “The garden was a subversive act... It was the carrot." The real carrot was a metaphorical carrot.* "You can’t go in with guns blazing until people trust you... What’s more innocent than a garden?"
Topic #5: Michelle's standing up for herself. She's writing a memoir, and it's "about refusing to place herself last, which is not just an act of self-love but is also a public, civic, political obligation."
I can see why I passed on this when I skimmed it before. It feels much like all the fluff I've seen about Michelle over the years. But I want to try to see it from the perspective of the other women — the "supremely accomplished black women" — who felt special and important gathered within the "safe"/"sacred" space within which Michelle performed intimacy.
These women — or many or some of them — must have wanted to feel that they got some material that is not available to the general public, something that related to their own status as "supremely accomplished black women."
In that light, I focus on "And here the audience murmured understandingly" — because that's where Givhan appropriated their precious intimacy, their murmur that said — just to their beloved Michelle — I know, I, like you have suffered the pain of being regarded as that angry, scolding woman when I was simply being the energetic, lovely, passionate woman that I am.
__________________
* I've talked about metaphorical carrots before, and this is not that. (Click that link to get back to one of the all-time biggest dustups on the Althouse blog.) Michelle is using carrot in the sense of the "carrot and stick."
Well, she's just incredibly cool and charming, and her attention to onion rings is delightful. I am glad to cede my onion ring crown to her, but for the record, these are my top 8 onion ring posts:
Bill says "No onion rings?" and Hillary responds "I'm looking out for ya." Now, the script says onion rings, because that's what the Sopranos were eating in that final scene, but I doubt if any blogger will disagree with my assertion that, coming from Bill Clinton, the "O" of an onion ring is a vagina symbol. Hillary says no to that, driving the symbolism home. She's "looking out" all right, vigilant over her husband, denying him the sustenance he craves. What does she have for him? Carrot sticks! The one closest to the camera has a rather disgusting greasy sheen to it. Here, Bill, in retaliation for all of your excessive "O" consumption, you may have a large bowl of phallic symbols! When we hear him say "No onion rings?," the camera is on her, and Bill is off-screen, but at the bottom of the screen we see the carrot/phallus he's holding toward her. Oh, yes, I know that Hillary supplying carrots is supposed to remind that Hillary will provide us with health care, that she's "looking out for" us, but come on, they're carrots! Everyone knows carrots are phallic symbols. But they're cut up into little carrot sticks, you say? Just listen to yourself! I'm not going to point out everything.
1. He's making us do this. He's brilliant at causing the media to revolve around him, and this is a big one. He tossed off a funny word as if he just suddenly thought of it, off-handedly, and now all of us, new and old media, are going to talk about it all day. I woke up this morning, saw the story, and regarded it as my serious duty and amusing pastime to go on about all aspects of the statement that Hillary "got schlonged" by Obama.
2. Is "schlong" a verb? The linguists are activated. Give Trump's schlong some lingual action. Now, Trump knows something about taking a noun and making it into a verb — "verbing" it. People love to take Trump's name — names are nouns — and use them as verbs — as in the Hillary campaign catchphrase "Love trumps hate." She wants to be "love" and to call him "hate"? Does she think love, love is the answer with Putin? Speaking of verbing names, Putin works as a verb — put in — who hasn't thought that sounds like a good schlonging?
3. Trump is making us look at his penis — his use of the word for penis — so he's kind of the flasher here. But it's Obama's penis in the image: Obama schlonged Hillary. Are you tempted to call that racist? Good luck, you fool. You'll have to explain why. Go ahead. Go down that path, you idiot. Trump wants you to fall into that rathole.
4. You know who else's penis we had to talk about — a big fat politician made us talk about that time? Has there ever been a more talked about penis than the penis of the man Hillary Clinton is still married to? Speaking of Hillary getting schlonged. We've had a mental image of it so long that this worked as an Onion headline:
5. The left meme pushed by Think Progress is: "Trump's Astonishingly Sexist Attack On Hillary." But now you've got to explain why it's sexist. As the WaPo piece linked at #2 showed us, Trump used "schlong" as a verb once before and it was to refer to something a woman did to a woman: "I watched a popular Republican woman [Jane Corwin] not only lose but get schlonged by a Democrat [Kathy Hochul] nobody ever heard of for the congressional seat...." As Trump uses the word, if Hillary had trounced Obama, he would have said "Hillary schlonged Obama," just as many of us will say: She fucked him. Women can schlong men, whether they have a schlong or not, and if a woman wants to be President, she'd better have the capacity to (figuratively) schlong men. Trump is surely in the position to explain his use of the word that way. And if you keep up with the "astonishingly sexist" bullshit, he's going to schlong you.
6. A Meadhouse dialogue ensues:
MEADE: "Maybe Hillary has a huge vagina."
ME: "She can store several heads of state in there."
MEADE finds that very funny.
ME: "I don't know if I should put that on the blog."
MEADE: "HA HA HA! OH NO NO NO! When it's men's genitals we're talking about, it's okay, but when it's women..."
ME: "I'm just afraid people don't know the whole 'huge vagina' meme. They haven't seen the 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'..."
MEADE: "You have to protect people from the idea of a woman's genitalia being huge, holding heads of state. 'Oh, what are we doing in here?' 'We're in President Hillary's vagina. She envaginated us.'"
ME: "Wait. What heads are you picturing? Who's in that dialogue?"
MEADE: "Putin. Angela Merkel. And I'm picturing the head of the new Trudeau, because he's so dreamy."
7. Meade wants me to show you this:
Meadhouse dialogue:
ME: "I like 'absolutely everyone can come inside' and taking care of you 'if you're ever frightened.'"
MEADE: "A safe space."
8. As Trump antagonists struggle to portray "schlonged" as sexist, they cause us to think more and more about the question of whether a woman is tough and strong and dominant enough to be President. Yes, most of us think that in theory a woman can be President, but like nearly all men, any given woman is unlikely to have what it takes. We know there's one thing she doesn't have, and that's not literally needed. But all the ideation about what it figuratively means is stirred up as we talk about the subject, which is what Trump is making us do, all by saying one little word and standing back and letting us do all the churning through of meaning. He never needed to say Hillary couldn't be President, but he made other people say things, things that they think will hurt Trump, and what they are saying is affecting the minds of millions of people, massaging our doubts, our resistance, shaping opinions that we don't want to have to talk about, that we know we shouldn't say out loud. Trump's one out-loud word did it all. That one word schlonged us.
9. And isn't it very funny that — in the same speech — Trump posed as the prudish man who thought it wasn't proper to mention that Hillary went to the bathroom:"Where did Hillary go? They had to start the debate without her. Phase two. Why? I know where she went. It’s disgusting. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too disgusting. Don’t say it, it’s disgusting. We want to be very, very straight up." He won't even say "go to the bathroom." That's the kind of straight-up man he is. Straight up. What erectitude! Rectitude. Oh, you disgusting people. Get you head out of the toilet.
10. A list can't end at 9, and I do have one more thing to say. It's a nostalgic look back to simpler times, back before Hillary got schlonged by Obama, when Hillary had full hopes of winning. It was June 2007, and the Hillary campaign had just put out a slick ad. My response, a list of 5 items, had a point, point #4 about Hillary's deployment of phallic symbols:
Bill says "No onion rings?" and Hillary responds "I'm looking out for ya." Now, the script says onion rings, because that's what the Sopranos were eating in that final scene, but I doubt if any blogger will disagree with my assertion that, coming from Bill Clinton, the "O" of an onion ring is a vagina symbol. Hillary says no to that, driving the symbolism home. She's "looking out" all right, vigilant over her husband, denying him the sustenance he craves. What does she have for him? Carrot sticks! The one closest to the camera has a rather disgusting greasy sheen to it. Here, Bill, in retaliation for all of your excessive "O" consumption, you may have a large bowl of phallic symbols! When we hear him say "No onion rings?," the camera is on her, and Bill is off-screen, but at the bottom of the screen we see the carrot/phallus he's holding toward her. Oh, yes, I know that Hillary supplying carrots is supposed to remind that Hillary will provide us with health care, that she's "looking out for" us, but come on, they're carrots! Everyone knows carrots are phallic symbols. But they're cut up into little carrot sticks, you say? Just listen to yourself! I'm not going to point out everything.
That isn't my result. That's the result achieved by some guy on Facebook. It doesn't matter who.
Years ago, college freshmen were given a standardized test that produced a number that purported to show where each student was on a scale from male to female. It was referred to as the "raw carrot" test, because one of the true-false questions was "I prefer raw carrots." I guess you're more feminine if you like your foods softened. The final score was revealed to the school — I went to the University of Michigan — but not to the student.
Eventually, schools abandoned this test. It was regarded as plainly inconsistent with what was once understood as the obvious, consensus lesson of the women's movement: We are all individuals who deserve to be judged on our merit and not according to a stereotype.
But stereotyping is currently enjoying weird new popularity.
I don't know how popular that "true gender mix" test is, but it can't possibly give you an answer to that question. Quite aside from whether there is such a thing as your true gender mix, if you know it's a true-gender-mix test, your answers will be tainted by whatever it is you want to be. And just from the fine print in that "70% Female" result, you can see that the test is designed to lure males into identifying as female. Female apparently means "kind and understanding." If you strain to be seen as 100% male — if that's what you want to be — you're going to be told in the end that you're a dick.
Meade read the previous post — which ends with the old University of Michigan "cooked carrots" test — out loud, helping me proofread, and said, "Carrots! We know what carrots mean to Althouse," and I said, "Yeah, the carrots tag. There's a lot of great stuff under the carrots tag."
I was scrolling through the taggage, looking for the thing Meade was referring to, and I found this guy...
Here's another reference to the cooked carrots test, which "purported to place everyone on a spectrum from very masculine to very feminine, and perhaps the authorities imagined that they could identify the homosexuals."
... "a 1971 survey that uses gender stereotypes to classify personalities as masculine, feminine or otherwise," which surprised Jean M. Twenge, who was a student at the University of Chicago and — we're told in this NYT article — a "Minnesota native and a childhood tomboy" who "had once planned on a career in gender studies."
Dr. Twenge decided to dig up as many old studies using the Bem survey that she could find, average out their scores by year and chart them over time. “I found that across all the studies from the ’70s to the ’90s, there was a very clear upward trend in women scoring higher on this measure of stereotypically masculine traits,” she said.
Twenge went on to use this method of studying generation change to focus on issues of self-esteem and narcissism, not masculinity and femininity. The article seems to attribute this shift on her happening to perceive that theme in the data. Much of the article is about critics of her methodology and what the negative dimension of narcissism really is. (Personally, I suspect that survey-takers get a higher score on a narcissism test because we used to get a stronger message that it's wrong to be selfish and "self-centered," so we self-assessed differently in the old days.)
I'm putting up this post because of the connection to the previous post, which I ended with a recommendation against seeing one's masculinity/femininity balance as any kind of a problem. Twenge took her research in another direction, and I wonder why she may have seen a career advantage in not delving into masculine and feminine stereotypes. In the constitutional case law that I teach, there's a very strong rejection of the use of sex stereotypes, but in the general culture, at least among elites, there's a lot of empathy for those who claim that their body doesn't match their psyche. But I think it's risky to point to that discrepancy. Who wants to step into that crossfire?
By the way, when I got to college, at the University of Michigan in 1969, we were given a bunch of tests, one of which gave a masculine/feminine score, and we were told all the scores but that one. The scores were reported on computer punchcards. We figured out how to read the holes on the punchcards and found our secret scores. I don't remember what I got, but the questions were such that the test was referred to as something like the "cooked carrots test," because a typical true/false statement was: "I like cooked carrots."
None of us, of course, knows what caused the pancreatic cancer that led to Steve Jobs's death, or what, if anything could have saved him....
For awhile at college, Jobs lived on Roman Meal cereal. He would buy a box, which would last a week, then flats of dates, almonds and a lot of carrots. He made carrot juice with a Champion juicer, and at one point turned "a sunset-like orange hue."...
Too much fear of death, too much of a fantasy of getting control... hubris.
But I must correct Mr. Edroso. There are 5 errors in the statement "when young Ann Althouse refused to eat the carrots on her dinner plate, her parents just sighed and got out the Cap'n Crunch."
It's for their own good. The university has services it wants to provide. All the government's intrusions into your private life are for your own good. You will be given what is good for you, so come on now, tell us all about everything.
ADDED: When I started college, at the University of Michigan in 1969, the freshman were all given a test — various multiple choice questions — and it produced a number of different scores, one of which was not revealed to the students (although we figured out the code and were able to read our scores). This score purported to place everyone on a spectrum from very masculine to very feminine, and perhaps the authorities imagined that they could identify the homosexuals.
What were the questions? — you may wonder. Famously, one question was do you prefer cooked or raw carrots. In my family, we only ate raw carrots, so I'd always regarded cooked carrots as gross. I suppose that made the University regard me as more of a lesbian. I seem to remember a question that asked what would you rather do, where one option was to take apart a clock and then put it back together again. I don't know what the other choice was, but I suspect that clock project skewed a lot of the boys gay.
Hmmm. Emphasis on "unconfirmed." I don't believe it, and I've passed up on writing about this story because I think propagating rumors about a religion is a very bad practice.
"If women wish to eat these food items, a third party, preferably a male related to them such as their a father or husband, should cut the items into small pieces and serve," the cleric supposedly dictated.
Carrots and zucchinis pose a similar threat, according to the Muslim decree.
I'm writing about this now, not because I want to amuse you — though, admittedly, it's amusing — but because I'm acknowledging that this is now a meme. Memes about religion penetrate deeply. Use protection.
But... why am I resisting this? Phallic symbols are a long — really long — -term topic on this blog. And if the Muslim cleric thinks women ought to refrain from touching carrots, I'd like to caution the men about fingering onion rings. Remember? Old times on the Althouse blog: "Let's take a closer look at Bill's carrot and Hillary's onion ring."
And, by the way, I say that cleric — if he really exists — is bragging: Even a vague reminder of the shape — and size! — of our turgid man-parts sends our women swooning with desire.
He turns, advances to edge of stage, halts, strokes banana, peels it, drops skin at his feet, puts end of banana in his mouth and remains motionless, staring vacuously before him. Finally he bites off the end, turns aside and begins pacing to and fro at edge of stage, in the light, i.e. not more than four or five paces either way, meditatively eating banana. He treads on skin, slips, nearly falls, recovers himself, stoops and peers at skin and finally pushes it, still stooping, with his foot over the edge of the stage into pit. He resumes his pacing, finishes banana, returns to table, sits down, remains a moment motionless, heaves a great sigh, takes keys from his pockets, raises them to his eyes, chooses key, gets up and moves to front of table, unlocks second drawer, takes out a second large banana, peers at it, locks drawer, puts back his keys in his pocket, turns, advances to the edge of stage, halts, strokes banana, peels it, tosses skin into pit, puts an end of banana in his mouth and remains motionless, staring vacuously before him. Finally he has an idea, puts banana in his waistcoat pocket, the end emerging, and goes with all the speed he can muster backstage into darkness. Ten seconds. Loud pop of cork. Fifteen seconds. He comes back into light carrying an old ledger and sits down at table. He lays ledger on table, wipes his mouth, wipes his hands on the front of his waistcoat, brings them smartly together and rubs them....
Good to be back in my den in my old rags. Have just eaten I regret to say three bananas and only with difficulty restrained a fourth. Fatal things for a man with my condition.
It's exiled on East Washington Avenue. Meanwhile, at the Capitol Square... the protesting is enigmatic and infiltrated with Halloween — Freakfest — spirit....
Of course, the article inside isn't critical of Michelle Obama and her eat-your-vegetables shtick. It's critical of Obama, but not because he eats cheeseburgers, because he "loves up industrial agriculture." We're supposed to identify with the angry woman swinging her lo-cal phallic symbols at her man. (At least they aren't cut up phallic symbols like the ones Hillary famously foisted on Bill.) The cheeseburger Obama prefers — like the onion rings Bill Clinton preferred — is a symbol, a symbol of what he loves. In Obama's case, according to the article, it's agribusiness. He "loves up" agribusiness, that big sloppy, gooey cheeseburger.
It's Utne Reader, that magazine for aging lefties, and the article assumes you're into the anti-business agenda. The magazine assumes you'll identify with Michelle and her vegetables and is oblivious to the possible revulsion you might feel to the angry face they've given her. You're supposed to think: Yes, Obama, come back to your lefty roots. (Note: Carrots are roots.) Your policies need to kick big business in the ass and embrace the local and sustainable and holistic.
But I didn't get that far into the magazine. The library was closing and the rainstorm was ending, and we needed to get back to the Glacial Drumlin Trail. I only had time to read: 1. a letter from the editor by a subscriber who was sending back an issue of the magazine because it had Sarah Palin on the cover and she didn't want to look at that ever ever ever (though presumably the articles inside assailed the Alaskan), 2. "On Being Fat and Running: Abandoning insecurity for a full life," by Brenton Dickieson, from Geez, and "Sentenced to Life: A man ages in prison and outlives society’s fears," by Kenneth E. Hartman, from Notre Dame. But none of those things are accessible on line, so I can't send Utne Reader some traffic and set up some discussion about that here.
The Hartman article is a reprint, and — unlike the Geez reprint about running while fat — the original is on line, so you can read it.
Prison is a young man’s world, a world of physical violence and posturing, a world of brute strength and primal, unfocused rage. It is not a place to grow old, although more and more of us are doing just that: growing old in prison.
But Utne Reader is not a young man's world — or a young woman's world. It feels like an old person's place. I felt too young for it... and I'm old. Or it's for those other aging Americans... the lefties. I see these people in Madison all the time. Do they feel left behind? Do you think the day will come when "lefty" will seem to mean left behind?
IN THE COMMENTS: lemondog has a way to get to an enlargement of the cover. Here's a closeup screen grab that shows Michelle's face:
The artist is Jason Seiler. Nice work. I notice the cigarette over the ear now. Ha.
Using lemondog's method, I can get to that letter about Sarah Palin. If you page forward in the magazine, you'll find it. You can see the cover that upset the poor woman so. She complains:
When the media gives air space, page space, and cover space (albeit in jest or irony) to crazies such as Palin, they are complicit in her plan to lend credence to the climate of ignorance, sensationalism, and just downright muddled thinking that is passed off as a national discourse these days — and which she is one of the most visible muddlers.
Jeez, the mere image of Sarah Palin unleashes hysteria.
AND: The image of Michelle Obama drives other people nuts. Women's faces. They're so provocative.
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