I'll echo Amity and others; this is good. A lot of the discussion in the letters is too.

I'm pretty agnostic on the Roiphe piece, but I thought the House of Mirth line was pretty telling. I'll agree with Kate and particularly Rebecca, by the way, that I think it's a highly questionable sentiment, sweet but ultimately a little bit silly.

Maybe Roiphe hasn't experimented much with the drugs she's comparing motherhood to, but what she's expressing is pretty familiar. When you're high (and I think MDMA would be a better comparison than opium), being high is the best thing in the world, and you would not trade it for anything. It's better than bacon, fame, chocolate, sex. You're full to bursting with ecstatic energy and you are driven to share this overflow of universal love, and all the insight it brings, with everyone and everything around you. It can be pretty embarrassing, the next morning, and it leaves you emotionally vulnerable and needy.

So Katie Roiphe is high. Very very high, I'd say. I don't see this as any sort of condemnation, but it does explain some of the silliness in the article. In a few more weeks (or however long it lasts) she'll come down and realize that sex, bacon, chocolate, fame and writing are all pretty rewarding too. With luck, the memory of the ups won't interfere with her other life projects. And if she has another kid and the high isn't as good as it was the first time, well, that happens too.

At a midnight showing with a bunch of scenesters. It was the wrong audience to watch the movie with (too much guffawing at the intermittent splashes of ludicrous goriness, too much catcalling during some of the better, tenser dialogues), but I'm glad I went early rather than waiting.

I think the review hits the nail on the head, pretty much. I was often bored, sometimes titillated, frequently intrigued, occasionally exhilarated. I don't know if I want to see it again as a whole piece, certainly not any time soon, but there are definitely scenes I would happily watch and rewatch.

ThoughtsOfSusan too. World-class athletes are born from a combination of endless hours of hard work, good training etc. etc. and bodies that are extraordinarily suited to their sport of choice. Not to use the term pejoratively (and I don't think blunderdog was either), but they are all freaks, people who lurk in the far reaches of the physiological bell curve.

You see the opposite all too frequently as well; I have a friend who spent 10 years of her life getting up before dawn five or six days a week to figure-skate, but was told (gently but firmly) roundabout 14 that she was too large and tall to compete seriously as an adult. Her brother is an NHL hockey-player, and had she been born male maybe she would be too. Go figure.

So does it surprise us that the female-identified intersexed (or any of the myriad variations therein that occur) are disproportionately represented in sports where male-ish physical attributes (heavy-musculature, quick adrenaline, ludicrously low body fat) give advantage? It shouldn't; what would be extraordinary upper-body strength in a female is less notable in a male. The question of what to do in these cases, of course, is somewhat more difficult. Desegregating competitions would disenfranchise large portions of the population, but then, the vast majority of the population already has no chance of competing at the highest levels.

For what it's worth, my $0.02 is that Caster Semenya (barring evidence emerging to the contrary) is and has been female from birth and should be treated and allowed to compete as such. It's clear that she has "unfair" genetic advantages regardless of any gender-related oddities in her genes. But this sort of human judgment doesn't necessarily equate to good and fair competition.

Here's a thought. Sports science is pretty intensely precise, and our understanding of human genetics improves daily. What if we were to categorize our sporting competitions not by the vague and unhelpful metric of sex, but by more rigorous standards of build and metabolism? Kind of a more intensive version of boxing's weight categories. Having no background in human kinetics, I don't have even the vaguest idea of how to even describe such definitions, but perhaps they could allow people like Caster to compete against athletes of comparable aptitude, regardless of their gender indentities? I dunno, it's a bit Gattaca in it's implications, but it would at least be a more precise way to discriminate than sex.

I've been thinking about your post for a bit, because I don't agree, but it's clear you've thought about it. I think where I differ most strongly is your statement that you think too many inputs are likely to be confusing and ultimately detrimental to a child. In my mind, aside from the extra scheduling and financial flexibility, additional adults mean more insulation for children from moodiness and fatigue (Mom and Dad both in a bad mood? Luckily Steve's around to help out) and early exposure to a wider range of personalities and opinions and interests (and potentially more languages! Another hobby horse of mine). More opportunities for role-models, confidants, everything.

Also, yes, poly relationships take time and care and attention, but not so much more time than a monogamous relationship that a whole extra person doesn't represent a net gain in resources.

I'm certainly not saying it'd be right for all children, or all families, or all situations, but I think you're underestimating the advantages that more parents can present.

I dunno, the trio in the Newsweek article are a perfectly good-looking group of people.