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This chic seems to think any single lad who hates sex and the city is a potential killer !
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Observer
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Observer
Women weren't to blame for George Sodini's spree...
George Sodini cited rejection by women as the reason for his attack on a Pittsburgh gym that left three dead last week. It's becoming a dangerous manifesto for some men
By Barbara Ellen
The idea of George Sodini, the 48-year-old systems analyst who shot dead three women, and wounded nine others, after randomly opening fire at a Latin dance class in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, is terrifying. For obvious reasons €“ he shot women dead in a gym €“ but also because details emerging from blogs he posted reveal him to be symbolic of a subculture of male rage that, despite all evidence to the contrary, blames women (dominating women, contemptuous women, icy women, just plain uninterested women) for everything bad that happens to them.
According to Sodini, he was a "total malfunction". No girlfriend since 1984. No sex since 1990, "rejected by 30 million" (his estimate of how many desirable single women exist). "Who knows why?" wrote Sodini. "I am not ugly or too weird." Really? Some might say that weird is a tame way to describe the act of driving to a gym to shoot people.
"Girls and women don't give me a second look anywhere," wrote Sodini. With these words, he could be another George Costanza, the Everyman sexual loser in Seinfeld, complaining to Jerry in their local diner. Indeed, elsewhere, video footage shows Sodini sitting in "rapt attention" at dating seminars. Another time, another context, a very "Costanza" thing to do.
What is happening here? Were the horrific events in Pittsburgh some kind of singleton Columbine? Instead of misfit, loner, high-school kids stalking corridors killing classmates, misfit, middle-aged dating reject guns down women at salsa classes because he isn't getting laid? Or is it bigger and weirder than that? Is Sodini an extreme example of a more widespread subliminal male rage, that can take many forms, but shares a common thread €“ it is all women's fault?
Male rage does have a habit of popping up. Hardly a week seems to go by without inordinate amounts of venom and scorn being aimed in the direction of prominent female politicians. Elsewhere, I have noticed a distinct increase in musings on how over-assertive women only have ourselves to blame if our men are weak and emasculated. We have outmanned and unmanned them €“ what bitches we are! This isn't even counting the drear that's always there, especially on the internet, from bitter rantings on divorce sites, to full-throttle misogyny on openly women-hating sites. And now we have Sodini on his blogs and videos, blaming all his ills on a dominant mother (the ultimate male rage target) and the "30 million" who rejected him.
It all goes to prove it's not the dick-swingers women should be afraid of €“ the ignored man, the unsuccessful man, can be the most dangerous on all. But this is not the whole story. Something has to explain how female dating failure leads to Bridget Jones, while for men the same road can lead to George Sodini.
It makes you wonder what these raging males want €“ a mass apology from womankind for being assertive and for not particularly fancying them? Are we actually supposed to placate and appease the kind of man who signs off a blog with the cheery cry: "Death lives!"
Sodini could be classed as just a random psychopath. In some ways, that's comforting. Far better that than the idea that for some men out there this kind of thing is becoming a distinct manifesto. The dark paradox is that if Sodini felt his social status was demeaned by his lack of success with women, he probably wasn't even shooting at the correct gender. It's men who tend to torture other men about status, just as women tend to torture other women about body image. Therefore, it's men, not women, who were responsible for Sodini's misery. In the meantime, women should be aware: male rage is dangerous and may be more widespread than you think. Be careful who you don't fancy.
The unhealthy truth about health foods
I recall trotting along to the Whole Foods flagship store in west London, then trotting straight out when I saw the prices. However much one coveted thimble-sized punnets of organic gooseberries or gluten-free, salt-free, indeed bread-free rolls (just the thing for Trudie Styler at a finger buffet), the desire to avoid bankruptcy proved stronger.
Unsurprising, then, to learn that Whole Foods has not been doing so well, having so far written off £50m in its attempt to establish itself in Britain. It's rather more baffling to hear Whole Foods boss, John Mackey, choosing this moment to lament that the stores sell "junk", saying efforts would be made to educate people with information kiosks, food books and cooking classes.
"We used to think it was enough to sell healthy food," said Mackey, "but we know it is not enough. We sell all kinds of candy. We sell a bunch of junk." Oh dear. Is this the organic food industry's Ratner moment?
What "junk"? Are fat people rolling in the aisles gorging on carob bars and spelt crisps? More pertinently, how atrocious is Mackey's timing? Everywhere you look, people are turning away from ethics and quality, back towards price and bulk and Mackey thinks this is the time to announce that his health food emporiums intend to be even less accessible?
I'm not surprised. People cast vegetarians as worthy tub-thumpers, but often we just don't eat meat and that's that. Most of us are too weak and lacking in vitamin B to take it any further. It's the omnivores who have the energy to preach, guide and bully, sometimes to good effect. At other times, like this, they exhibit no common sense at all.
Instead of cooking classes, perhaps Mackey could consider lowering his prices. He could also accept that, if the health food movement is going to survive in any mainstream way, it probably has to morph into the "healthier" food movement, with good intentions all around, but with commercial compromises viewed as inevitable. A Tesco Finest kind of approach. If they manage all that, the yoghurt-coated raisins are on me.
Do us a favour, boys, and keep your holiday snaps for the family
Oh, sunny Siberia, I wish I was there. Not that I need to be, what with Vladimir Putin's holiday snaps to admire. This year, my favourite is of him topless on horseback, the wind in his strangely non-existent chest hair. Others prefer the ones of him breaking sticks to make fire, his holiday villa presumably being a bit parky of an evening. Still others may be wondering why we are being lumbered with Putin's holiday photographs at all or, indeed, any other famous person.
I think we are agreed that there are few things duller, more dreaded, than other people's holiday pics. And that inflicting your photographs on acquaintances is about as welcome as relating your dreams. Why then the current culture of the omnipresent holiday snap?
Don't get me wrong: Vlad's booty shots are always welcome, but that's a year-round thing. Recently, we've had too many photos of Simon Cowell looking taramasalata pink in Barbados, Ulrika flashing her post-plastic surgery "16 again!" body, and Katie Price getting what appear to be "piggy fronts" from any passing male on the beach.
Didn't it used to be only pushy neighbours who got away with this kind of impertinence? Even then, after people had begged for death in their living rooms, enduring interminable slide shows of sunburnt Brits shaking maracas, they were likely to be rewarded with chicken kiev and a glass of pomagne. What do we get for enduring famous people's endless tedious holiday snaps? Nothing. So enough. It's tiring enough deleting our own ghastly holiday snaps.
George Sodini cited rejection by women as the reason for his attack on a Pittsburgh gym that left three dead last week. It's becoming a dangerous manifesto for some men
By Barbara Ellen
The idea of George Sodini, the 48-year-old systems analyst who shot dead three women, and wounded nine others, after randomly opening fire at a Latin dance class in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, is terrifying. For obvious reasons €“ he shot women dead in a gym €“ but also because details emerging from blogs he posted reveal him to be symbolic of a subculture of male rage that, despite all evidence to the contrary, blames women (dominating women, contemptuous women, icy women, just plain uninterested women) for everything bad that happens to them.
According to Sodini, he was a "total malfunction". No girlfriend since 1984. No sex since 1990, "rejected by 30 million" (his estimate of how many desirable single women exist). "Who knows why?" wrote Sodini. "I am not ugly or too weird." Really? Some might say that weird is a tame way to describe the act of driving to a gym to shoot people.
"Girls and women don't give me a second look anywhere," wrote Sodini. With these words, he could be another George Costanza, the Everyman sexual loser in Seinfeld, complaining to Jerry in their local diner. Indeed, elsewhere, video footage shows Sodini sitting in "rapt attention" at dating seminars. Another time, another context, a very "Costanza" thing to do.
What is happening here? Were the horrific events in Pittsburgh some kind of singleton Columbine? Instead of misfit, loner, high-school kids stalking corridors killing classmates, misfit, middle-aged dating reject guns down women at salsa classes because he isn't getting laid? Or is it bigger and weirder than that? Is Sodini an extreme example of a more widespread subliminal male rage, that can take many forms, but shares a common thread €“ it is all women's fault?
Male rage does have a habit of popping up. Hardly a week seems to go by without inordinate amounts of venom and scorn being aimed in the direction of prominent female politicians. Elsewhere, I have noticed a distinct increase in musings on how over-assertive women only have ourselves to blame if our men are weak and emasculated. We have outmanned and unmanned them €“ what bitches we are! This isn't even counting the drear that's always there, especially on the internet, from bitter rantings on divorce sites, to full-throttle misogyny on openly women-hating sites. And now we have Sodini on his blogs and videos, blaming all his ills on a dominant mother (the ultimate male rage target) and the "30 million" who rejected him.
It all goes to prove it's not the dick-swingers women should be afraid of €“ the ignored man, the unsuccessful man, can be the most dangerous on all. But this is not the whole story. Something has to explain how female dating failure leads to Bridget Jones, while for men the same road can lead to George Sodini.
It makes you wonder what these raging males want €“ a mass apology from womankind for being assertive and for not particularly fancying them? Are we actually supposed to placate and appease the kind of man who signs off a blog with the cheery cry: "Death lives!"
Sodini could be classed as just a random psychopath. In some ways, that's comforting. Far better that than the idea that for some men out there this kind of thing is becoming a distinct manifesto. The dark paradox is that if Sodini felt his social status was demeaned by his lack of success with women, he probably wasn't even shooting at the correct gender. It's men who tend to torture other men about status, just as women tend to torture other women about body image. Therefore, it's men, not women, who were responsible for Sodini's misery. In the meantime, women should be aware: male rage is dangerous and may be more widespread than you think. Be careful who you don't fancy.
The unhealthy truth about health foods
I recall trotting along to the Whole Foods flagship store in west London, then trotting straight out when I saw the prices. However much one coveted thimble-sized punnets of organic gooseberries or gluten-free, salt-free, indeed bread-free rolls (just the thing for Trudie Styler at a finger buffet), the desire to avoid bankruptcy proved stronger.
Unsurprising, then, to learn that Whole Foods has not been doing so well, having so far written off £50m in its attempt to establish itself in Britain. It's rather more baffling to hear Whole Foods boss, John Mackey, choosing this moment to lament that the stores sell "junk", saying efforts would be made to educate people with information kiosks, food books and cooking classes.
"We used to think it was enough to sell healthy food," said Mackey, "but we know it is not enough. We sell all kinds of candy. We sell a bunch of junk." Oh dear. Is this the organic food industry's Ratner moment?
What "junk"? Are fat people rolling in the aisles gorging on carob bars and spelt crisps? More pertinently, how atrocious is Mackey's timing? Everywhere you look, people are turning away from ethics and quality, back towards price and bulk and Mackey thinks this is the time to announce that his health food emporiums intend to be even less accessible?
I'm not surprised. People cast vegetarians as worthy tub-thumpers, but often we just don't eat meat and that's that. Most of us are too weak and lacking in vitamin B to take it any further. It's the omnivores who have the energy to preach, guide and bully, sometimes to good effect. At other times, like this, they exhibit no common sense at all.
Instead of cooking classes, perhaps Mackey could consider lowering his prices. He could also accept that, if the health food movement is going to survive in any mainstream way, it probably has to morph into the "healthier" food movement, with good intentions all around, but with commercial compromises viewed as inevitable. A Tesco Finest kind of approach. If they manage all that, the yoghurt-coated raisins are on me.
Do us a favour, boys, and keep your holiday snaps for the family
Oh, sunny Siberia, I wish I was there. Not that I need to be, what with Vladimir Putin's holiday snaps to admire. This year, my favourite is of him topless on horseback, the wind in his strangely non-existent chest hair. Others prefer the ones of him breaking sticks to make fire, his holiday villa presumably being a bit parky of an evening. Still others may be wondering why we are being lumbered with Putin's holiday photographs at all or, indeed, any other famous person.
I think we are agreed that there are few things duller, more dreaded, than other people's holiday pics. And that inflicting your photographs on acquaintances is about as welcome as relating your dreams. Why then the current culture of the omnipresent holiday snap?
Don't get me wrong: Vlad's booty shots are always welcome, but that's a year-round thing. Recently, we've had too many photos of Simon Cowell looking taramasalata pink in Barbados, Ulrika flashing her post-plastic surgery "16 again!" body, and Katie Price getting what appear to be "piggy fronts" from any passing male on the beach.
Didn't it used to be only pushy neighbours who got away with this kind of impertinence? Even then, after people had begged for death in their living rooms, enduring interminable slide shows of sunburnt Brits shaking maracas, they were likely to be rewarded with chicken kiev and a glass of pomagne. What do we get for enduring famous people's endless tedious holiday snaps? Nothing. So enough. It's tiring enough deleting our own ghastly holiday snaps.
I didn't realise that , that could complicate matters a little .
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