Do you think that I am asking too much?

While I haven't technically received my physical diploma yet, I have already started batting around the idea that I should staunchly insist that people refer to me exclusively as "Linda, Bachelor of Arts," seeing as it's important that everyone be reminded of my formidable academic accomplishment with every invocation of my name.

But my plans were shattered when, after googling the etymology of bachelor on a whim, I discovered that, apparently:
By the time the 14th century arrived, "bachelor" referred to a junior member of a guild or knight. Around this same period, an alternate spelling, bachiler, came to mean "an apprentice student," or a student completing an initial level of training. It was from this usage of the word that came the meaning of a young man in the service or working as an apprentice to a knight or skillsman in order to gain greater knowledge of a field. Individuals of this status were not considered to have a mastery of the given field of study.

I find it hilarious that, etymologically, I might as well have "Linda, Noob of Arts" on my diploma.

Seriously, though, I occasionally wonder how much smarter and/or wiser I've become over the course of my time at IWU, comparable to how much smarter and/or wiser I would have been had I just spent four years bumming around my parents' houses. As a Noob of Arts, what I gained out of my education is (as I've pointed out time and time again) less immediately tangible than, say, the nursing certification that some of my peers are receiving.

This isn't to say that I can't tell that I've intellectually grown. Part of my U.S. Department of Education-Accredited Education was teaching me the ability to be a keen analytical thinker. So I'm in a good position to identify, for example, that despite the fact that I wrote an entry in this very blog in 2006 on subjectivity (and more specifically, on the fact that it's extremely important both to recognize the variations of subjective opinion on any given subject, and also to not allow subjectivity to paralyze you and prevent you from coming to your own conclusion on a matter)... It took me just about four years to actually learn that lesson.

Ironically (or perhaps illuminatingly), the fact that it's possible for me to know--and even write coherently--about something while failing to internalize it to an almost laughable degree is something I've known about myself for quite a while.

After my dreaded beheading I tied that sucker back on with a string

I need structure in my life to be happy. This is something I've suspected of myself for a while now, but I must have subconsciously decided to deny it, in part because I'm utterly convinced that this fact instantly drops me down to Milhouse level on the LameScale. Sure, my ultra-busy schedule has been abated since winter break, but so far I've been able to maintain enough assignments and jobs to allow me to keep up the illusion of Doing Stuff. That is, until a week ago, when my freelance project ended and I suddenly found myself in an abyss of Having Nothing Pressing To Do, which I reacted to with the happiness, grace, and adaptive ability of a toddler thrown into a community pool deep end without floaties.

The standard response to this kind of complaint is to say that I need a hobby. I have plenty of hobbies. What I need is an itinerary. I'll accept the charge of Almost Inconceivable Organizational Nerddom if it means that I can avoid spending my days in eye-gouging aimlessness.

Yesterday was Superbowl Sunday, an event that stands out in my calendar only for the fact that on no other day of the year do I become invested in a football game or suddenly willing to eat buffalo wings or fried mozzarella. This year the 'bowl had the added distinction that the game itself was interesting and dramatic enough that, atypically, it caught and held my attention better than the commercials.

...or rather, it would have, had it not been for the slew of advertisements oddly and blatantly focused on American masculinity.

A quick google search made clear that I and my friends were not the only ones to notice the rampant theme of threatened manhood in the commercials, and I sort of expect that speculation about the motivations and messages behind the ads will simmer for a while. On the subject, I have only to say:

1) Even the various news and blog articles I found responding to the commercials seemed to take in stride and as fact the idea that Superbowl ads are for men--that the Superbowl itself, as one article put it, "is one of man's last havens of masculinity." Advertisers can and should operate off the assumption of a male audience. When we look at these ads, we should think of how advertisers wanted them to impact the male brain. The result is that none of these articles seems concerned for the messages that these commercials send to women.

But that assumption is not valid, and the oversight not acceptable. Comparable to the dozens of other football games broadcast over the last few months, the Superbowl is the one game that a substantial proportion of women actually watch. One article I found reported that about 40% of the viewers of the 2008 Superbowl were women over the age of 18. We're watching. It's not a reasonable excuse to write off women viewers because on every other day of the year football is a dude thing.

2) The commentating articles also seemed to focus solely on the most probable primary message or intent of an ad, ignoring subtext. One (woman-authored) blog noted that the Dockers "Wear the Pants" campaign "reaffirm[s] some aspect of traditional masculinity or macho-ness" as a counter to a culture where masculinity is getting increasingly "diluted" (as the Dove ad proved). By her estimations, the ad is addressing the admittedly tricky issue of an eroding and increasingly amorphous definition of masculinity, and is a cry for a return of a clear-cut model.

But the subtexts--which would more or less demand taking into consideration how a woman might react to this commercial--are numerous. Control and assertiveness are within man's domain. "Wearing the Pants" is not an issue applicable to women. There is something not-male threatening the ability for men to control and assert themselves. (And what's the opposite of male again? Oh, right.)

And then there's the Dodge ad, which shows men agreeing to submit to some apparently stereotypically female and presumably undesirable behaviors (like separating recycling, being civil to mothers, and shaving) in return for the right to drive a supercool Dodge car (boldly proclaimed to be MAN'S LAST STAND). Arguably, this commercial simultaneously portrays man's ability to be patient and compromising while also defining what a man is and is not, and once again asserting man's right to autonomy.

But even that positive-minded interpretation feels like a stretch. Other messages? Men are not naturally inclined to be clean or courteous. Women stifle men. Women control everything in ManLife aside from cars. The Dodge Charger--symbol of freedom and power--is a man's car and undesirable to women. Women are defined by vapid and unempathetic behaviors and activities (like "vampire TV shows", having inordinately critical friends, and being unwilling to be contradicted).

3) The mass effect of these ads just gave me a distinct sense that, for some elusive reason, now more than usual, advertisers are feeling pressure to shadily and forcefully wield their power as the subtle shapers of culture and political opinion.

...Or perhaps not-so-subtle. "Alsoabortionisevil OK GUYS ENJOY THE WHO!"