Oh, Boys

So, I’m reading on the Chronicle of Higher Education about how weird it is that, even though it’s obvious that colleges and universities are bypassing better qualified female candidates in order to keep their male to female ratios closer to 50/50 instead of the dreaded 60/40, no women are suing.

It’s an interesting article, if you can get access to it, lots to think about.

But what it’s got me wondering about is where are all the bright guys?

Are men getting rapidly and progressively stupider?  That seems unlikely.

Are men finding shitloads of good paying jobs that don’t require college degrees?  This also seems unlikely.

Is college suddenly so terrible men cannot be persuaded to go?  Again, considering how much of college is billed as drinking and having sex, I doubt it.

I think the explanation is that we’re failing boys long before they go to college.

I want to be clear, too, of course.  I don’t think the solution to a decline in male college-goers is to screw over female college-goers.  There are enough spots to go around.  And I don’t think it does us as a society any good to cut off opportunities for well-qualified women in order to leave room for less well-qualified men.

But, if half the population in general is men, then it seems that, all things being equal, roughly half the population in college should be men and, if it isn’t, then all things must not be equal.

Are we overmedicating boys?  Are they suffering more under the “teach to the test” nonsense?  Have we instilled in boys this idea that, if they can’t be the best, they might as well not bother?

Men, give us some insights here.  Why aren’t y’all going to college?

Oh, You Dirty, Dirty Men

The feminist blogosphere is all a flutter over this ad for rugby.  I have nothing more to add to the discussion; I just wanted to post the picture here, too.

rugby1.jpg

Whew.  Is it hot in here or is it just me?  Dirty, muscular, men with broad shoulders and tight bums all making out with each other?  It’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day.

If Only Dwayne Johnson Would Smother Me With His Obese Ass

Ooo, this is fun.  This story comes via NiT, who got it via Freedonian, who got it via Coble over at Music City Bloggers.*

I admit, I hadn’t previously considered the insurance company angle to the BMI, but I will be mulling that over.

Here’s what I don’t get.  Why don’t we, instead of focusing on the BMI, focus on a set of health standards.

If you’re a healthy, able-bodied adult you ought to be able to, say, walk for an hour at a normal pace without being winded or able to exercise aerobically for thirty minutes without feeling like dying afterwards or something.  And you ought to be getting however many servings of vegetables a day and so many hours of sleep.

You know what I mean?  Set real standards that would benefit everyone across the board instead of using weight as a stand-in.  I don’t need to know what a “healthy” body looks like.  I want to have a guide to having a healthy life.

It makes me highly suspicious of the motives of the federal government that they’d rather focus on that number (the BMI) than on real things that would benefit a lot of people.

*I feel a little remiss for not saying anything about the ongoing shake-up at NiT.  I thought I didn’t really have anything to say about it and then I got an email from Christian Grantham asking if I’d like to take some days over there.

That made me feel like I should be clear.

So, let me be.  I have nothing against NiT.  In fact, just as my own opinion, I really am enjoying having both NiT and Music City Bloggers.  On MCB, I have a lot of voices I’ve come to love and respect over the years and lord knows I’d pay good money to read Roger Abramson AND over at NiT, I’m getting a kick out of William and Alison (and even Nemesis Girl).  If the defection of a large stable of writers from NiT means that WKRN goes out and finds new voices and gives them a shot, well, hell, I’m all for that.

But if Christian Grantham thinks that he and I are on good terms, that he can write me and ask me for favors… Good god, man, are you nuts?  We’re not okay.  A year ago, you may have thought you were just riling up the locals in order to make a name for yourself that you could then parlay into better things and that such behavior was okay (Here and here for those of you playing along at home), but I thought it sucked.

And I, being the local so riled, have not forgotten.  I find that behavior dishonorable and your handling of the whole situation to be so disingenuous that I feel an almost spiritual duty to have nothing to do with you.

How could you not notice?

So, yes, as long as you’re the one responsible for NiT, Grantham, NiT should not ask me for help.

When Nemesis Girl (I’m trying to act on good faith that these are all different people–Nemesis Girl, Alison, William–and not avatars of Grantham, but I actually have very little faith in that being the case) says, “What used to be a priority for bloggers seems now to have settled into the option category.    NiT brought community together, through the incredible, insightful, and talented Miss G.” I hear that and my heart does go out to NiT, because it’s hard to watch something I care about flounder.  But NiT worked because, regardless of what you thought of Brittney, you felt like there was a genuine person behind the scenes, working with NiT’s best interests at heart (even if she screwed up sometimes, even if people disagreed with her about what NiT’s best interests were).

My interactions with Grantham online and off have not led me to believe that he’s a genuine person and I have no confidence that he has NiT’s best interest at heart.

That, more than anything, is what scares me for NiT.  Not all the defections, not the Music City Bloggers, not the change in upper management at WKRN–but that the man pulling the strings on NiT now has never given any indication that he actually has any interest in this community or desire to foster continuing good will.

(Yes, I am still pissed about my dog.  Let that be a lesson, when it comes to her, I hold a grudge.)