Will All the Girls Reading, Yes, You Three, Please Scrunch Together On One Side of the Subway Seat

This should probably be put up one one of my more nimble broadcast mediums, like twitter or tumblr, but I don't have one of those yet. In any event, I see this socio-spatial phenomenon happen every so often on the NYC transit system, and I always get a chuckle out of it. When I took this picture there was basically no one else on the train. Why doesn't someone move??? There's probably more to break down there; certainly something eerie the way they're all lined up with bags in their laps and books in their hand. Maybe this could be the female version of the Captain Morgan commercials where the guys do the elbow on the knee pose? I don't know, but I can't attend to the matter fully because I just got a package from amazon and now that it's opened I'm wondering if I should be thinking about that more: One could see that as "get-busy" tools. One could see it as a cry for help. One could see it as, oh, 750-800 cups of coffee without the brown tooth-polish and less another 100-200 pounds of soft-dookie irrigation (too soon?). Think I'm going to opt for the latter. no book deadline can stand up to the power of tan on no-doz, bwahahaha.

Interview With A Man Who Never Moves Into the Middle of the Train (Bastardo!)

you know 'em. I know 'em. When will these people not exist? Here's the interview:

TAN: So have you ever ridden in the middle of the car?

Stupid Man: No, actually I haven’t. It looks so scary and dangerous.

TAN: There are millions who ride in the middle of the subway car every day. What gives you such reason for pause?

Stupid Man: Well you never heard the story?

TAN: What story?

Stupid Man: The story about the man and daughter who rode in the middle of the subway car.

TAN: Um, no actually. Haven’t heard that story. Please tell us.

Stupid Man: Ok. I will..... but please stop calling me "stupid man."

TAN: Tell your story, or I will destroy you, punk.

Punk: fine...

~~~~
scene dissolve …
~~~~

We open inside of a NYC subway car. It is crowded, but there is an even distribution of people throughout the car. We close in on a father and daughter standing and talking in the middle of the car. The father is explaining to his daughter why thinking about others and being respectful is the thing to do. Being considerate. Being a nice person. Being aware. All good. We zoom in and listen in on their conversation:

For example, honey. You know when we cross the street, and how all the cars wait for us to pass? That is because they are being respectful of others. Theoretically. You remember that word, right honey? Thee-o-ret-ick-ally. Well theoretically, those cars could just fly straight at us and run us over and kill us.

Kill us daddy?

Yes, honey. Kill us. But because they are nice and respectful of others. And because we made laws. We get to cross the street safe and sound, and then go home and eat ice cream!!!

I like ice cream! Thee-o-ret-ick-ally.

No, honey. I think you definitely like ice cream.

TAN Will Not Be In The Next Lupe Fiasco Video

(my homey in this video is the same homey I mention in this old post about bailing on a lupe fiasco video. now he's doing commercials, getting his hollywood hustle on. take note, couch surfers. stay on your grizzly, and things can happen! all of us, lupe, myself, calkutta (waddup, c!) have experienced some evolution. some love. some attention. some scrilla. but I bet we're all also in the boat of feeling like we're just getting started. funny how that works. anyBoost, cool story brah, seeing someone you met along the road doing their thing.)

ORIGINAL:

So I have this guy staying with me, and he works at Atlantic, record label for Lupe Fiasco, artist behind the song Kick, Push. If my caucasian peeps have been slow getting up to speed on that, you might also know Lupe from Kanye's Touch The Sky.

So he lets me know they're shooting Lupe's video yesterday, and I could come down. Maybe get in the piece. Talk to some people. Etc. Etc. Ultimately, if you're living on the margins in NYC, and you're in this sort of business, these are the sorts of opportunities you pay the premium price for. To be where things are happening. And then see what happens. If you're not taking advantage then paying the NYC cost-of-living is silly.

But I think if you're an artist, it's easy to shy away from the "fandom" in such scenarios. I'm a fan of a lot of things, but the phrase "art over artists" has been repeating in my head the last year or two (not repeatedly, just off-and-on) and it means that I really admire, worship, idolize the art, not the artist. The product/track, not the producer. I could care less about Apple, but I love my ibook. It's not the individual creator, because we're all the same. It's their particular creation. Meeting Lupe Fiasco is cool, but if he's not going to perform Kick, Push for me, it's kind of like whatever. Same odds of me getting along with him apply to anyone (those odds are reasonably good by the way).

Her Name Is Paris, Mrs. Jackson If You're Nasty

This photo. Still an insta-TAN classic. I don't want a celebrity-hollywood machine if we can't make THIS happen:

1. I don't think they look bad together. Like sometimes an interracial couple looks a little forced and affirmative-actioney. Like the cornfields of Nebraska girl holding hands with a harlem hood type ... that's questionable. But these two, not so bad. Young, sophisticated, urban ... we can work with this.

2. I love the name Paris Jackson. That's hot. I might name my child that regardless (no MJ). Curtis Hilton's not so bad either.

3. Professional synergy. They're both incredibly good at what they do: culture exploitation. Hmm, doesn't sound as bad if we call them... business-people? Brand-builders? But seeing them together makes one realize how much 50 is in Paris, WOOPSY, but you know what I mean. She's not an artiste. Neither is 50, by his own admission. They're kindred spirits in f-that-artiste-shit, awww. And of course neither of them is stupid, and they could potentially helm a tremendous entertainment/marketing company/brand thingamajig. bullet-proof hotels. rapping chiuauas. all that.

4. and OOOMG, look how cute they are! Look how happy he makes her! Look how intent and focused he is. They're adooorable. Maybe this was just a second, and the affection isn't genuine but, awwww. It's like lolcats for interracial couples or something. I could stare at these two forever. And I could totals see her bungling up breakfast for the family -- she's trying! -- and kissing 50 before he goes off to work etc. We want these two for our new Leave it to Beaver model modern family.

5. They'd probably make/leak a pretty good sex tape. I'm not really into them myself (seriously!), but I hear a lot of people like those.

6. Their children would be .... interesting to see how they turn out.

Anydream ... these pics are a little old, but I'm really rooting for this to happen. I once made that photo my blog header for a while. I'm waiting for an update, since there's nothing more TAN than these two ...


Oh, the news here was 50 is interviewing Paris at Sundance or something [Page Six]

Overcompensating at the Condom Factory

(Even post-rapture the lord continues to forsake me when I'm drunk. and has yet to weigh in on the proper size of condoms)

ORIGINAL:

From the BBC:
"A survey of more than 1,000 men in India has concluded that condoms made according to international sizes are too large for a majority of Indian men."

awwww. Gives a whole new meaning to "Slumdog Millionaire", doesn't it? Oh wait, actually it doesn't do that at all.

It does mean, though, that the "majority of Indian men" don't have enough burger for comely Indian-American model/meat-eater Padma Lakshmi.



AnyHardee, yeah, maybe that's not true either, but it turns out getting the specs on these "condoms" the kids are all raving about is a tricky business. In India they're too small, but over in South Africa, *cough*, they have a different problem. All of this is racist, but apparently true!

Also, it makes me think that maybe average-size isn't so bad. Also also reminds me of that poem, "footprints in the sand". I had a similar experience, you see, where I dreamed of walking the beach with the Lord, and all the love-scenes from my life flash across the sky, and I notice footprints, sometimes one pair, sometimes two. And seeing that saddened me because I noticed that I'd see two footprints when i was sober, or when i had a girlfriend, but whenever I'd get drunk and out of control i'd only see one. And I asked the Lord, "why do you forsake me when I'm drunk??! that's when i need you most" And he/she replied, "it's true, I do get the f out of dodge when you get drunk. You're sort of an insufferable knowitall. But look again at the sand, because when I leave you i give you a little extra to work with in my absence."


footsteps image: via

Who's Got Next: Which Ethnic Minority Will Follow Obama In Office?

(The NY Mag feature on Wesley Yang's Asian-American identity crisis made me think about this old post on Who Will Be America's Next Minority President. Asian, Puerto Rican, Female, gay? And how will they express their authentic-assimilated brand of identity politics? I CAN'T WAIT. the best part is, IT HAS TO HAPPEN, because what cultural or ethnic minority can run for office without some "hi-signing" about their roots? It makes me think the GOP messed up back in the days by putting their devil[ed] eggs in the Steele/Palin basket. Now I think the only way they beat O is with a GOPecan-Rican. amirite?)

ORIGINAL:

I wonder what a "Puerto Rican Obama" would be like.

Would he/she charm America by dropping just enough español in the speeches? (he/she would have gone to Yale or some Ivy, obviously, so it's not like all he does is hablas español. Just saying, it's part of his charm.)

We've gotten a little spice this season con, "si se puede!" Now throw in a little "Ahora!!" o "me gusta el culo más grande!!!" and I'm confident we could get primed up for cambiar all over again.

But yeah, who's gonna get that Freedom-To-Dream USA Certification next?

Because, and please correct me if I'm wrong, that's what the superlative nature of the celebration seems to be about, right? The African-Americans have graduated! On their own merit! One got through the labyrinthine maze to power (a cool one we've been rooting for, like Ratatouille), and now we can really, truly look at them with the deep down respect they deserve. And that's so awesome!

And it's true. All you non African-American ethnics, let me tell you, it's pretty cool being official right now. I'm already drawing Obama's face on all my money, yo. Five Baracks gets me a macbook pro, cashmere hoodie, and an hipster chick that appreciates it ... And she expresses her love through comments on my blog.

Dear TAN: Why Did Ghostface Do Us Like That? (Pt. 1)

Send your questions/letters to theassimilatednegro [at] gmail [dot] com. In this edition: Yo, Ghost. Waddup with this? 

 Hey T.A.N., so I am a follower of your blog and really glad your back on Gawker on the weekends! I thought you would appreciate this story: 

I'm finishing up a masters in London and since my MA project is due in about a month I don't get to go out as much as I'd like because I am always so swamped with work. But a couple of days ago I saw that Ghostface was playing. My Dad's entire family, post-slavery, was born on Staten Island and I have fond memories of Wu-Day, and just the genius that was Wu-Tang clan. So I decided to pay my 25 pounds, that I don't really need to be spending in the first place, and go see one of my Hip Hop heroes. I ran from South East London to South West to grab my girl Kyla (my Essex soul sister) and then we headed clear across the capital. Thought we were late but when we got there a friend of mine DJ Snuff was still playing and UK MC Kingpin had the unenviable task of keeping the crowd from throwing things while waiting for technicians to sort the decks and mics before Ghostface came out. Thank God I witnessed Snuff and Kingpin as they were the highlights of the night. 

So after about 25 minutes Ghost finally arrives and it.is.amazing. Hes doing all the tracks you want to hear, an ODB tribute and of course Wu staples. The crowd is going nuts there is literally a metal style mosh pit in the middle. And then after about 25 minutes of playing something terrible happened. It was as if he just got...bored? He brings up two would-be future MC's which is annoying but as a fan of Hip Hop for my entire natural life you come to expect these things. But then after earlier praising the crowd for loving "real" Hip Hop he brings up a bunch of chicks on stage and the whole thing turns into a really bad Hip Hop satire. It was like a 50-Cent video sans the good looking girls who make you feel like maybe you should go to the gym. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised considering his video for the song that was playing in the background. Even with this though I was still there excited for the second half of the show that I, for some reason, just knew he was going to get back to after he took a break having fun with the 10/12 girls who were there. 

But then he did the unthinkable, after playing for about 25 minutes he claimed that "they were telling him his time was up" which I thought was weird considering he just got there and then he said "we've got t-shirts for sell." I assumed that like most artists he meant, you know, outside the venue there would be a stand with his merchandise. But no...this motherfucker started selling the t-shirts ON STAGE!!!! Who does that ever? I could have maybe dealt with it if he finished out a full set, did an encore and then came out to sign t-shirts. But no he went from legendary MC to a shop manager. "Get in line!" Kyla and I weren't the only ones outraged. Hardcore fans who not long before were reciting every line to "Ice Cream" were booing, I'm talking Amy Winehouse has shown up to a gig drunk again type booing. Most of the crowd left. 

 + + + 

My first job out of college was at Def Jam the summer he had come out with "Fishscale" during the Jay-Z years of Def Jam management. I went blue in the face pushing it to my bosses, begging-unsuccessfully-for them to take some money out of the Ne-Yo and Rihanna budgets to put into Ghost' marketing campaign. I preached about how great it was, how it was the perfect combination of dope beats, lyrics, an air tight flow that has been so perfectly honed over the years. I couldn't believe how much they were sleeping on someone who I thought was one of the last remains of Hip Hop as I knew it. You should know that I don't normally entertain conversations about what "real" Hip Hop is or isn't because I honestly don't know what the fuck that means. What is the criteria of being "real"? Do you have to write about a certain topic? Do CL Smooth or Premiere have to do your beats? To me the only thing more boring than mainstream Hip Hop is talking about how boring mainstream Hip Hop is especially when there is plenty of good shit to listen to. So its not the "realness" or lackthereof in this case. That is not what I'm upset about. If anything I am more sad that someone who is part of a group that defines an era, that has influenced most MC's I speak to from my sunny hometown of Los Angeles clear to South London actually thought it was okay, actually thought that there was nothing wrong with doing half a set and then peddling t-shirts on stage. Where is your pride? I'm not a performing artist but surely when you finish you want your crowd wanting more, chanting, cheering amazed at what they just saw and not booing. 

Because I always get the last word as I was standing outside starting to feel the effects of one two many ciders and a spliff guess who walks out? Oh yes Ghostface Killa himself. I turn around, looked at him and decided I wouldn't be able to leave without asking him what the fuck? It didn't help that Kyla was in my ear in a sweet English accent demanding "go give him abuse!" So Kyla and I marched over to Ghost' van in our finest hoochie attire and waited while fans passed him mixtapes, and girls gave him kisses.... What will happen at the Ghost Van?Will there be a confrontation?? Will it be anti-climactic??? And what role will the hoochie attire play???? All this and more CONTINUED IN PART 2 image: via, 2, 3

Race, Religion, & Rapture

(THERE'S NOT MUCH TIME LEFT, THIS 2008 INTERVIEW WITH DANIEL RADOSH ABOUT "RAPTURE READY" HAS NEVER BEEN MORE RELEVANT. MAKE SURE IT'S AMONG THE LAST THINGS YOU READ BEFORE, WELL, YOU KNOW...)

ORIGINAL:

This is an interview about Christian pop culture...

Wait! Don't go yet! The power of Obama compels you!

See, these days with reverends calling out future presidents, and future presidents giving dap like they're chilling at the 40/40 club, the tides of race, religion and pop culture have washed us all up on some sort of unchartered island. Everyone's a little Lost for clear definitions: What does it mean to be black? What does it mean to be Christian? What does it mean to be Tyler Perry?

So here's the deal: Daniel Radosh -- one of the smartest Caucasians I know (statement verifiable by his blog: Radosh.net) -- immersed himself in the mostly white-washed world of Christian pop culture for 12 months. And he survived to tell the story! Annnd that story is available for purchase at your local book store, Rapture Ready!.

Intrigued by how this seeming societal outlier could be a 7-billion dollar a year industry, I emailed Daniel a bunch of questions looking for connections between issues of race and Christian evangelicals. Basically trying to keep it "Spiritual, but not Religious", so we can get more perspective on if those folks are "Christian, but not Crazy."

In so doing we explored why church at 11AM is still the most segregated time in America, and why Jesus "can be your girlfriend, but not your ho", all set-up so that I could pin him down on one question: would he rather wake up as an evangelical christian, or a black person?

Will Daniel provide some compelling data to help us navigate this dark island of cultural politics, or will he say something inflammatory or insensitive? Find out in the interview below:


TAN Interviews Writer Daniel Radosh [EbonyJet]

Some Drunk White People Are Very Very Special

(Still dutifully researching "Drunk White People". Have a bunch of them passed out in my basement RIGHT NOW, but studies remain inconclusive. However, send me your tales of Drunk White People preposterousness and I'll let you know when the official academic logs and reports come out. Look quizzically at a drunk white person, take mental notes, and we can change the world! More drunken TAN content to come! See below for more background.)

More on the you can not pass out around white people" beat. A few days ago T tipped me to a bizarre story, almost a direct re-enactment of this Chappelle joke: 25 year old white guy passes out on a friend's couch, wakes up to find his peeps have drawn human genitalia on his face, then proceeds to pull out a POCKETKNIFE because, apparently, Murfreesboro Tennessee mf'ers don't play that. A pocketknife.

The Smoking Gun picked the story up a couple days later with an amusing addendum:

In a TSG interview, Masse denied pulling a knife, but confirmed that a penis had been drawn on his face and that it "took some scrubbing" to remove the image, which apparently was applied with a Sharpie-like marker.

(Ha. how much for the impressionist peen, sharpie-on-canvas?)

I honestly believe that if we could figure out how the psychology in a series of events like this works we could end racism. Or something similarly monumental. There is definitely some gold in the deranged pathos that leads to getting joy out of drawing a penis on your friend's face.

Negro 101: Yo Son, What is Up With The Kids Saying "Son" All The Time?

[TAN: OLD SCHOOL. LIKE YO MTV RAPS, BUT BLOGGIER. STILL WAITING FOR OBAMA TO DROP A "SON" ON 'EM. IT'S COMING DURING REELECTION SEASON...]

In the comments of a recent Dear TAN, the esteemed Orange poses a question:

How come "son" tacked onto something, often in a somewhat admonitory fashion, is a black thing? Why hasn't this caught on among white folks? Can we get some unassimilated etymology here?

wonderful question. sometime in the past decade (i'm pretty sure it was chappelle, but haven't actually run the numbers) the slang term "son" crossed over into mainstream. like real MAINstream. Oprah could use it as a quip (she probably has). Judd Apatow is writing it into a script as we speak. I'd take some odds on Obama dropping it sometime in the next four years. (especially if these journys want to keep asking tough questions. Obama's definitely gonna snap on someone like, "YO SON, I TOLD YOU WE WAS GONNA ISSUE A MOTHERF'ING STATEMENT NEXT MOTHERF'ING WEEK. DO YOU WANT TO ASK ANOTHER QUESTION, SON? No seriously, do you?")

Anyson, I disagree that white people aren't using it. Maybe normal white people aren't using it? But there aren't [m]any of those left here in NYC (ha!). And for that matter, normal black people aren't using it either. (fyi, I'd draw the line of normalcy somewhere around 35-36 years old.)

The term has definitely graduated though. It's in the urban slang Hall of Fame. It didn't break in with the inaugural class of superstar slang like, "dope" "word" "fresh" "wack" etc. Or the suspect second generation of "phat" and "jiggy". But now it's got the necessary votes. word.

And it's a nice piece of slang, especially when you know about it ... so herewith is a brief lesson on "son" history/usage:

The Claire Huxtable Code

Claire Huxtable is the perfect professional black mom. Actually, Claire Huxtable transcends race: She’s the perfect professional mom, period. She also transcends generations: While June Cleaver, Carol Brady, and Edith Bunker may lose potency over time, if you go back to the archives, you’ll find Claire Huxtable still holds up strong. Every TV mom is still aspiring to be Claire. She simply covers all the bases: Effective lawyer. Attentive parent. Lightning-fast hoagie snatcher.

She raised the bar every Thursday night for years and years, and millions of black men went to bed dreaming they would someday run into their own Claire. Every black man under forty in America has used her as a guiding light in his quest for the perfect partner. When they go out on dates with black women, their eyes glaze over as they hallucinate three-cushion sofas and little Rudys and Theos walking around, being adorably bratty and dealing with very solvable life issues.

How to be a modern-day Claire:

1. Date a professional: doctor, lawyer, politician. Income, insurance, and a job that projects dignity and respect are nonnegotiables for Claire.
2. Be independently successful: You want a professional man, but no one ever saw Claire asking for money on The Cosby Show.
3. Develop the ability to raise one eyebrow—it’s the ultimate passive-aggressive tool. I’m pretty sure there are a couple episodes where Claire didn’t speak a single line, she just raised the eyebrow for every purpose, be it warning the children or luring Cliff into the bedroom.
4. Dress in age-appropriate attire that is neither flashy nor cheap. Claire was sexy, but at the same time we never saw more than a few inches of flesh exposed. Try to keep up with that, Kim Kardashian!
5. Health and fitness are part of the agenda but should not be overdone. Claire never bemoaned her weight, but we also never saw her coming from the gym.

How to find your Claire:

• Tour local graduate schools.
• Have a graduate degree yourself.
• Be comfortable with the fact that you will always be less put together than your woman. Be a fixer-upper.
• No drugs, no excessive drinking. Life itself is fun with Claire; there’s no need to artificially enhance.
• A small potbelly is endearing.

FINAL NOTE
Michelle Obama might be taking the baton as the quintessential symbol of the professional black woman/doting mother. Being the first lady and having the whole “actually existing” thing going for her will surely help her work her way into our collective hearts and minds. But she’ll still need Barack to win a second term before she can approach the status of Claire Huxtable.

illustration by Brandon

Thus Spach Sarah Palin: Become Hard

But no one asked or paid attention to the sweet somethings Sarah had whispered in his ear. He was not one to be easily aroused, but this was a special occasion....

"Let me quote you one of my favorites," she said to him in a lusty sotto vocce

Why so hard? the kitchen coal once said to the diamond.
After all, are we not close kin?
Why so soft? O my brothers, thus I ask you: are you not after all my brothers?
Why so soft, so pliant and yielding?
Why is there so much denial, self-denial, in your hearts? So little destiny in your eyes? 


And if you do not want to be destinies and inexorable ones, how can you one day triumph with me? 

And if your hardness does not wish to flash and cut through, how can you one day create with me? 

For all creators are hard.
And it must seem blessedness to you to impress your hand on millennia as on wax. 

Blessedness to write on the will of millennia as on bronze -- harder than bronze, nobler than bronze. Only the noblest is altogether hard.

This new tablet I place over you: Become hard!

"that's Friedrich Nietzsche," said Sarah, "lovelovelove him"

Hip Hop & Hipsterism: A Philosophy of Us and Them

Here's an excerpt from my contribution to n+1's "What was the Hipster?" book. Last fall the conversation circulated around at spots like NYMag (114 comments), NYTimes ("f this intellectual minutiae, someone implies), Yglesias ("flat-out good writing"), hilobrow (they prefer the term "revivalist", and other spots that if I weren't so out of practice with my linking I would include. But Mr. Google can help if you want more...

On my end I offered some thoughts from the perspective of someone who never really encountered the term until I started hanging with nyc media types. And so I began with this:

There is a difference . . . between Norman and myself in that I think he still imagines that he has something to save, whereas I have never had anything to lose.  Or, perhaps I ought to put it another way: the things that most white people imagine that they can salvage from the storm of life is really, in sum, their innocence. It was this commodity precisely which I had to get rid of at once, literally, on pain of death
- James Baldwin

The quotation is from James Baldwin’s “love letter” to Norman Mailer, “The Black Boy Looks at the White Boy,” published in Esquire in 1961, four years after Mailer’s “The White Negro” first appeared in Dissent Magazine. If the n+1 panel is a modern update (repurposing?) of Mailer’s attempt to define the hipster, then consider this “Black Boy’s” response a recapitulation of Baldwin’s dismissive-but-gracious riposte. The hipster, most essentially, strikes me as an avatar of innocence. No one self-identifies as a hipster, and by most definitions the hipster has no agenda of its own. Maybe it was an idea, an inception, planted a long time ago, only to exist as a projection from our own subconscious. Baldwin’s point, then, is to suggest that an essay on the White Negro -- and I’d argue, as analogue to a panel on hipsters -- is the indulgence of a dream, a fantasy, that requires the luxury of sleeping through life to obtain (this echoes Nietzsche’s first maxim in Twilight of the Idols: “Idleness is the beginning of all psychology”). Baldwin’s sentiment is one that cuts right to the heart of what white privilege in America is about. The artful shirking off of human responsibility in the face of ostensible ongoing injustice. A certain entitled pacifism -- passive-aggression as institutional oppression -- that preserves the status quo of Us and Them. They say the issue of class is about the Haves and the Have Nots, but that’s one capitalist-construct up from the fundamental ground-level conversation of Us and Them. And the hipster discussion, much like Mailer’s “White Negro” essay, is a different kind of discussion: one about Us and Them, carried on almost entirely among those who Have.

I Know That You Know That We Need A NEGROPEDIA...

...well, it's coming soon

drops 10/4. I think the pre-order is up and available

HOLLA

Interview with a 27 Year Old Virgin

The virgin contained in this interview is REAL (also 27, female, and caucasian). Her virginity was not harmed during the course of the interview. 

So let's get the movie out of the way: 40 year old virgin, do you own it? How long? What does it mean to you? 

I've seen the movie, but don't own it. I'd rate it somewhere above Talladega Nights but below Anchorman. 

Do you like the movie more because of you sharing the story? Or less? Like if I was on La Amistad, or any slave ship, and then I watched Amistad, I could see finding it annoying ... 

Here's the misconception: all virgins are not the same. Never have I tried to lose my virginity and failed to do so. 

If the story were more like your story, in terms of it being a younger girl, would it be better or lamer? Might you become a 40-year-old virgin? 

I don't think I'd let myself make it to 40. I'm looking for love, so hopefully love will come before 40.

So who else knows The Secret? 

Well, pretty soon all of your readers. Other than that, most of my girlfriends, a handful of my guy friends, and a few guys who have broken up with me because of it. ;) 

Which do you feel more often: 1. I want to tell the world! 2. I wish no one knew about this. 

I've never wanted to tell the world...hence the promise of anonymity in exchange for this interview. 

Are you attractive? Please try and convey your attractiveness in some way so people can know if your virginity is just a symptom of being ugly. 

How do I say yes without sounding like a bitch? It's like saying I'm a virgin without sounding like a prude.  

Have you ever talked to your pootie-tang? You and her are kind of going through this together, so it seems to me that at a certain age it would be weird if you hadn't talked to her. Like at some point YOU MUST have the exchange where you say, "well kitty cat, it looks like it's just you and me tonight..." and then your poochie goes into hysterics, or falls out laughing or whatever. 

My vag has never fallen out, laughing or otherwise. But I think this is where guys and girls differ...we don't name cars or our cha-cha's. And we certainly don't talk to them. At least, I don't anyway. 

How is the "virgin cachet?" I could see it becoming the ironically cool alternative hipster thing to do. Do you ever feel like, "boy, I remember when slutty whores were all the rage -- in the 90s or whatever -- but now "virgins" are the new "slutty whores."? 

Eh - I don't think anyone sees it as the "ironically cool alternative hipster thing" to do. However, most people (women, anyway) have found it admirable. Or maybe that's just because they're my friends and don't want to say anything mean. 

Do your fantasies have people in them? or are they all like movie reenactments? Fantasies are usually some sort of creative amalgam of sexual things you've seen or experienced. But you know only movie sex, right? I imagine your fantasies are like some mashup of your top 5 movie sex scenes ... 

I'm not a fucking corpse, TAN. I'm also not retarded. I know what goes on in the bedroom, and have enjoyed a lot of the things I've done in there. So I can fantasize about that AND movie stars - a creative amalgam of sexual things I've seen and experienced. 

How can you fantasize about sex if you haven't experienced it? I remember having fantasies about all sorts of things before I tried them, but when I tried it was totally different. Do you think, for example, sex is like flying a space shuttle? 

No. I don't imagine sex is anything like flying a space shuttle. 

I'm presuming there have been attempts, could you tell us what happened on the closest attempt? 

I'm afraid I won't be explaining the details of the closest attempts, but there have been a few. 

Are there particular boys or incidents you regret, or scenarios where you wished you were more aggressive? 

I'm constantly wondering if guys would have stuck around longer had I given in earlier - but then I ask myself if I want to be with someone who'd take off so soon just because I wouldn't sleep with him. And for the record, I constantly go back and forth when answering myself. 

Do you think virgins garner the proper amount of respect on the social totem pole? Let me explain: For example, when I think of virgins I think about how little I would care for any advice they have to offer on sex/sex relationships. Say we're hanging out, and I just started dating a girl and we're getting along and I'm wondering about rushing into sex or holding out for fear of crash-and-burning, they might have an opinion but does it matter? They'd say something and I'd laugh and say, awww, that's cute. So: Do you think virgins have anything to offer a conversation largely about sexual relationships? Or a world rife with sexual politics? 

I've actually experienced you're dismissal of anything I have to say in the sex department, so I know exactly how little you care and how cute you think it is, thanks. But you do have a point, there isn't a lot a virgin can offer when it comes to discussing the act of sex or, for that matter, the way it can change the dynamic of a relationship. All we can do is listen to your wise, wise words. But I think a virgin can offer something about the benefits of waiting and, let's face it, every argument needs to be countered. So that's how you sluts can benefit from our point of view. 

Are you happy, regretful, anxious to be in your position? 

Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm anxious. But I can definitively say I've never been regretful. 

Do you think you're missing out on life? you've had to consider the possibility that the whole point of life is sex, right? Reproducing the species. How do you live with doing the one thing we were born to do? 

One of the reasons that I'm waiting is because I don't think that sex is life (Calm down...breathe. I'm aware that you disagree with me on this). I've had a great life without sex and I want to have great relationships that aren't based solely on sex. Do I think sex is important? Yea, but I want to share it with the right person (cue end-of-family sitcom "life lesson" music). Cheesy? Maybe, but I'm fine with that. 

What's your ideal de-flowering? do you even think of yourself as a flower? 

I don't think of myself as a flower. And my ideal de-virginizing has changed so much over the years. I've totally over-romanticized it at certain times, of course, but I've come to focus more on the person than the setting. Besides, if I try too hard to make it perfect, I'll only end up being disappointed. 

In general, do you think you'd rather meet a virgin boy, or Mr. Experienced-but-sensitive ....? 

I go back and forth with this one, too. But as of this minute, I want Mr. Experienced and sensitive ... is that hypocritical? Eh. 

How old do you think you need to be before you'd just rape someone to get it over with. Or at least be really non-discerning. Could you die a virgin? 

I really don't think I'd ever be non-discerning. Worst-case scenario, I'd grab one of my closest guy friends and be like, dude, do me. Talk about romantic. 

Awww, I'll be your friend, V. Thanks for the interview ...