Quoth our tipster: “Ruins dress, saves lives!”

It’s a peculiar political marriage between a man and a man: “Eight and a half years after their epic partisan battle over the fate of the 2000 presidential election, the lawyers David Boies and Theodore B. Olson appeared on the same team on Wednesday as co-counsel in a federal lawsuit that has nothing to do with hanging chads, butterfly ballots or Electoral College votes,” today’s New York Times reports. “Their mutual goal: overturning Proposition 8, California’s freshly affirmed ban on same-sex marriage. It is a fight that jolted many gay rights advocates — and irritated more than a few — but that Mr. Boies and Mr. Olson said was important enough to, temporarily at least, set aside their political differences.”

Here’s what Olson had to say at a news conference: “If you look into the eyes and hearts of people who are gay and talk to them about this issue, that reinforces in the most powerful way possible the fact that these individuals deserve to be treated equally.”

Yep. For a man with a lot of penance to take care of, it’s really a pretty good start.

Update: Oh, wait.

The esteemed Onion News Network reports that the nation’s girlfriends have put foward an economic plan that could save the country over $200 billion — let’s move in together!

Nation’s Girlfriends Unveil New Economic Plan: ‘Let’s Move In Together’

Taking stock on February 16, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I can seem to meet men only in the fall or winter of each year and they never, ever last past three months (into the New Year). This has happened to me with almost all of my potential relationships — the ones that I thought would last. I try to find men in the spring, but my aura must be in hibernation. Is having this three-month limitation normal and what can I do to curb it?

— Clueless

 
Dear Clueless,

I’m thinking that sometime maybe in early February, your relationship sees its shadow and thus decides it’s gonna last — for only about six more weeks. Other than that, I can’t really account for the particular seasonal patterns in your relationship almanac, but I will say that three months does seem to be the normal human relationship gestation period. For some reason, that’s as long as it generally takes to get to know someone well enough to decide that that’s, well, enough. If you need proof that it’s not just you, let’s just say you wouldn’t believe how many letters I get that start off just like the next few do.

So there’s really nothing for you to “do” to “curb” your tendency. It’s more about the mysterious internal rhythm of relationships than it is about your, um, “aura.” But listen, Clueless, spring is almost here. Don’t let this hibernation thing become a self-fulfilling forecast.

Love,
Breakup Girl

The more things change on February 16, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I have reached the conclusion that current societal trends suggest that most decent relationships last on average three years. Do you agree that in opposition to the 50’s, contemporary GenX people will therefore exist in a string of three-year relationships and in a constant cycle of grieving and happiness?

— Cross-Eyed and Well-Spun

 
Dear Cross-Eyed,

Are you talking about current societal trends, or are you talking about your current societal life? Anyway — and either way — don’t think for a minute that people in the 50s did not exist in a constant cycle of grieving and happiness (if you remember, it was “Happy Days,” not “Happy Life“). Just because dating procedures were clearer and the institution of marriage appeared more stable, the world — and relationships — were hardly problem-free (McCarthy, Rosa Parks, hydrogen-bomb-building, women “getting pinned,” whatnot). So instead of falsely idolizing times gone by, let’s exist in a constant cycle of grieving and happiness today.

Love,
Breakup Girl

Apparently, the teens are doing way too much texting sexting whoring hugging.

ZOMG Adam says he prefers “the top!” (Kris’ OH NO YOU DI’INT reaction is kind of adorable.)

Truly, not that many people can both hang with KISS and be this coy.

Meanwhile, would we be having this much fun with a Gokey/Lambert final?

Greetings, classmates. Can you believe that ten years have passed since we last walked the hallowed halls of our beloved high school? True, we blew up those same halls on Graduation Day and bonded together to battle a giant snake, but who among us doesn’t look back in fondness at those glory days of Sunnydale High?

– Michelle Blake-West, Sunnydale Class of 1999 co-Homecoming Queen

Tonight (and next week) in New York!

Each attendee will be assigned their own Sunnydale student identity kit at the door. Then we’ll party like it’s 1999 with with an evening of dancing to music videos from the end of the century, challenging Buffy trivia contests, our always popular Buffy-oke competition, and other Buffy related party games. Over the course of the evening, our alumni will be going head-to-head in all these activities, with one student selected at the end of the night to win our custom “Class Protector” award (and a ton of Buffy schwag).

Of course, now that snake will totally have two kids, a dumb job, and a paunch.

Ooh, early drafts of Star Wars! A long time ago, no one realized they’d ever wind up on a blog!

Check the original proto-love scene between Leia and proto-Luke (Annikin Starkiller!). Think he had her at “Now straighten up and get into a lifepod”?

From the New York Daily News:

What we saw Monday was rubbernecking, slowing down to gawk at a smoldering wreck. It doesn’t mean another 5.2 million people suddenly wanted to see a “reality” show about raising eight kids.

What happened Monday, in fact, took the focus away from what the show has always been about. What was envisioned as an irresistibly cute fifth birthday party for their sextuplets became a footnote to Jon and Kate’s simmering anger toward each other and the suddenly uncomfortable tabloid life they signed up for.

Now, sure, the fate of a “reality” TV show about a couple raising twins and sextuplets will not be the biggest long-term issue for those kids if their parents split up.

But being on TV is what Jon and Kate seem to do now, and it’s hard to see how Monday night’s sad, uncomfortable dance will create the kind of long-term television viewers really want to follow.

Sad and uncomfortable, most of us can get without turning on the TV. It’s not that we have any inherent problem with discomfort on “reality” TV. Watching supermodels eat maggots seems to be cause to tune in, not tune out.

We are intrigued by physical exhaustion on “Survivor,” we feel the frustration of the overweight on “The Biggest Loser,” and we love seeing Gordon Ramsay fillet his erring chefs on “Hell’s Kitchen.”

But watching an actual relationship deteriorate — the cold silence, the simmering resentment, the little cruelties — that’s not much fun.

Right. A lot of us can get that without turning on the TV, too. So when it comes to reality-TV couples, perhaps it’s time to look away — and maybe toward the genuinely charming (and even edifying) The Little Couple, whose honeymoon period, we hope, will last a good long time.