By emily
Grade: Sad

Since the N is now my favorite TV network, I am seeing a lot more ads for menstrual products (and hair-braiding kits, and the upcoming season of Degrassi in which someone is totally going to die because Degrassi GOES THERE!) Most of these ads are for a new innovation from Kotex: Ultra-Thin, Ultra Quiet Pad Wrappers. These pad wrappers are so quiet, no one but you will ever be able to hear their delicate crinkle. Because we women hate having other women know that we bleed from the vagina each month. Wait, what? I'm sorry, but other than the poor insecure 12 year olds that this product is clearly targeted at, I am having a hard time imagining a consumer who would actually give a fuck about pad subtlety (besides ninjas). In fact, I don't even really understand why anyone uses pads. But more to the point: of all the embarrasing noises that can emanate from a bathroom stall, why is Kotex focusing on this one? MENSTRUAL SHAME, that's why. I think that this product was invented by the angry woman in my office who sends out a company-wide email every time she encounters an unflushed tampon. Ladies, we need to come to terms with the fact that our bodies do something a little bit gross, but that ALL OF US DO IT (except for the pregnant and postmenopausal) and therefore it is nothing to be ashamed of.

Pooping, on the other hand, is still strictly for men.

By Emily
GRADE:D

“I just did a rail of, like, the purest snow, man. It’s like, the best shit I’ve ever had, and, like, now I’m just flying, man.”

“I’ve been in therapy since I was five. Five.” (holds up fingers)

“Next semester I’m leaving NYU and I’m just going to work and get therapy. That’s all I’m going to do. And I’m going to be a model because I love fashion. And because I don’t eat, well I mean I eat every few days because I start to feel really weak and sick and then I know I have to eat, but I’m like, really skinny, and I don’t feel hungry anymore like, ever and I’m on this medication that makes me really hyperactive and that kind of energy, well, going to the gym is like the perfect release for it, so like I’m getting some really good definition.”

It would be nice if I was making these quotes up but you know what I’m talking about. They're out there. They are a variation on the people who like to talk about how they got sooo wasted last night, except dumber and more annoying. Yes, I am talking about the people who corner you at a party and then feel the need to brag to you about how many psychiatric issues and drug addictions and pathological behaviors they have. Then they proceed to remorselessly act soooo crazy. Well, speaking for all the people who try desperately hard to conceal their neuroses, I really object. It's rude to completely ignore other people's conversational preferences in order to jabber at them about your particular level of crazitude. You will notice that the real crazy people never do this, only the upper-middle-class learning-disorder-addled kids. Guys, I am speaking to you right now. NEWSFLASH: Nobody gives a fuck. Shut up, and then ask people questions about themselves. Be polite. And please, please, do not talk about ‘snow.’

By emily

GRADE: not good

Here’s the question: do we want to dilly-dally around with Canadianness, or just go ahead and start a moon colony? Maybe we can get Lance Bass to fund it, and then once we’re out of the earth’s atmosphere we can jettison him into the cold, dark vastness of outer space. Or: maybe the coastal regions of America should just go ahead and secede from that horrible middle part. Sure, we’d get our asses kicked by the south and midwest in the inevitable ensuing civil war, but maybe we could somehow join forces with Canada/Mexico and then the red states would be barricaded in, with no access to supplies. And then we would starve them until they surrendered. It would probably take a while because don’t those people all weigh like 800 pounds?

Despite the mad-maxy fun of all these scenarios, I think the most likely one is that we will all continue to experience the scary future here, and that it will suuuuuuuuck in all kinds of ways.

What the fuck, America? What the fuck, The Future? Where is my robot car? Where is my flying skateboard? Where is my government-mandated daily happy pill? Instead all we have is the totalitarian regime part. Can we at least have the cool silvery costumes?

UPDATE: for those seeking vaguely realistic or at least fact-based options re: renouncing your citizenship, you might as well check out this article.

ANOTHER UPDATE: In the interest of balanced pseudo-journalism and, you know, sanity, I recommend that you incorporate a healthy dose of these Top Ten Reasons Not To Move to Canada into your worldview, too.

By B

GRADE: B+

We really try to avoid politics here at the Universal Review, because, ew, who cares? But everyone seems to be really riled up about the election that is supposedly taking place next Friday! All the fags from Friendster are totally getting involved, and, as you know, I never met a bandwagon that I didn’t like. I even once went to a Howard Dean rally because my then-boyfriend told me everyone else was doing it. How embarrassing. Those Friendster types really know how to pick a loser, huh?

Anyway, when Hurricane James informed me that all of Brooklyn was heading to Pennsylvania to be all civic-minded and politically active and everything, I immediately asked him if there was going to be a hot gay singles scene. He said yes, so I of course I was totally there. And was he ever right! When we arrived in Allentown, PA, all the regulars from Metropolitan were milling about on the streetcorners, looking dyspeptic and half-drunk as usual as they chain smoked and handed out John Kerry flyers. Of course you can be sure that that guy with the big nose was there. You know who I’m talking about! You have seen him everywhere too! Did he also Friendster message you, back in the heyday of April/May’03? I bet he did!

(Confidential to my boo: you know I love you, baby. I would never go to Pennsylvania looking to hook up with politically minded gays.)

Anyway, the activism part of the trip was sort of a drag. If I had known it would involve so much walking around I would never have gone. At least I would have worn better shoes. Basically our job was to trudge around, door to door, and remind the beleaguered citizens of Pennsylvania that there is, in fact, an election on Wednesday. Most people had already heard this news, although several ladies in sweatpants aggressively announced things like, WE DON’T VOTE IN THIS FAMILY. I told them that that’s fine too. I am not someone who criticizes anyone else’s lifestyle choice. People in houses of gay anal sodomy should not throw stones.

None of the people we had to bug got too sassy with us, but no one wanted to give us our propers for caring about their vote, either. I was expecting people to really appreciate that we had come all the way to boring, provincial Allentown from exciting New York City just because we care about Pennsylvanians. Unfortunately, none of the people that we were reaching out to seemed to make the connection. Mostly we got a lot of blank stares. James had it a little better than I did, because his canvassing partner was a sexy young lady with a beautiful, velvety speaking voice. Of course people wanted to listen to her lecture them about civics! My partner was the considerably more skittish Bobo, and much as I love him, I don’t think the sight of two giggling faggots on the doorstep encouraged any potential swing voters to suffer through our spiel.

I thanked God when the canvassing was finally over. There was more work to be done, but, instead, James and I went to the mall while everyone else was hard at work. Some things are just important. After we had shopped for a bit and gone to the food court, we went and sat in an empty parking lot, in Bobo’s sister’s Saab. We hadn't been there for 5 minutes when some really scary male hooker tried to climb in through the window in order to give James a hug! I am not joking. We had a time.

But the next day was more of a let down. We mostly sat around in the local steelworkers’ union because the official activist headquarters burned to the ground (for real) and the people in charge kept telling us they were going to give us something to do and then they didn’t. It was okay, because we didn't have to walk around, but not great.

That said, I am more than confident that I have made a difference in this election. If I managed to convince just one person to head to the polls this November 12th and cast his or her vote for Al Gore for President, I will consider it a job well done. For this reason, I am giving ACTIVISM a solid B+. As an activist, I give myself an A+. I could not be prouder.