Okay, I really should stay away from political commentary, because so many, many people are so much better at it than I am, but came across this asinine article by Naomi Wolf. This woman's annoyed me for awhile, b/c while she is a self-proclaimed feminist, invariably she ends up undercutting feminism in the national press, i.e., sounding like such an asshole that she gives aid and comfort to the enemy. Also, she fancies herself a culture critic a la Camille Paglia--she's moved on from the earth tones of her Al Gore advisory to pastels:

While Bush Inc. understands the power of the vivid visual image—dressing the entire GOP convention, for instance, in matching tangerine and turquoise, color-coordinating the Cheney grandchildren to give a visual sense of order and unity—the Democrats keep being bumped to the inside pages because they send out their candidate and his wife in neutrals.

The Democrats have much bigger problems than color-coordinating outfits.

But why am I even taking this woman seriously enough to blog about her? I remember waiting impatiently for weeks to get a copy of "The Beauty Myth," to find a mass of disorganized meanderings that were about five years out of date (sort of the way Paglia screamed about her revelations in "Sexual Personae" when I kept thinking, "Gee, this sounds a lot like Lacan....").