The Dissemination (of Thought) Files: Mummy blog truths and Wonder Woman boots
Today in The Dissemination (of Thought) Files, I interview Chrystalyn Hope, author of The Future of Hope. We’re going to discuss Scorsese, her Lasso of Truth, and why she thinks her favourite mummy blog will convince me to have children.
Lyndon Keane (TDoT): Before we get stuck into the juicy questions, can you clarify something for me? What the hell’s a “Scor-Sagian”? I can’t figure out if it means you’re some freaky hybrid with the head of a scorpion and a horse-like body, or whether you just really like Scorsese films.
Chrystalyn Hope (TFoH): Man, that would be awesome. I would shove Napoleon Dynamite’s liger on a blacklist if it were true. Unfortunately, it is not. I was actually born on the cusp between horoscope signs. Most people don’t realise there is a transition period where both signs are present. I only mention it because those people who are really into that stuff will be like, “Oh, damn, this blog has got to be interesting because she is straight fucked up!”
Maybe that is why I do love Scorsese. Plus, he has awesome glasses. So classy!
TDoT: On the subject of Scorsese, what’s your favourite of all his films and why? Have you ever stood in front of a mirror and asked who someone was talking to, a la Travis in Taxi Driver?
TFoH: You must like his glasses, too. Choosing a favourite is hard. I actually had to look him up on IMDb to make sure I had my shit straight. Obviously I don’t, seeing as you asked me about the one Scorsese movie I haven’t seen. I had to research the shit out of it, and you know I don’t have time to watch it now and give it a fair review.
The mirror scene reminds me of when I was little. I used to sit in front of the mirror and play out scenes from movies, books, fantasies, or whatever was in my pretty little head. Don’t be jealous! I can’t just go around sharing my awesomeness with anyone.
As far as my favourite movie of his goes, it would definitely be Gangs of New York. As a friend of mine once said, “History is written by the winners.” I love the nitty gritty and shitty of history. It is absolutely fascinating what people forget to teach you, don’t want to teach you and don’t want you to know. I love that Gangs of New York takes the history into those deep, dark corners. You are involved, not so much with the characters, but with the period and setting. Most people aren’t as enamoured with history as I am. Yes, I’m nerdy. Very nerdy in fact, if you are just catching on.
TDoT: In ” Glitter, Anuses, TMI, Versatile, Ninjas, Phenomenas, And Angelia Jolie’s Leg! AKA The Epic Awards”, you tell a story about trying to impress a guy by jumping onto a bed, only to ricochet off it and then off the wall; at what point did you realise there’s nothing sexy about someone wedged between a bed and the wall like a stranded, upturned turtle?
TFoH: Damn you, Lyndon! I am a hard-headed and stubborn woman. I was sure I could salvage the miss. That is until, I went splat against the wall like a bug on the windscreen. Unfortunately, an absence of inertia meant I slid down between the wall and the bed, thus becoming stuck. And you are wrong. The fact I was pulled out without any aches or major injuries was sexy enough. Why, you ask? Because that guy realised he was sleeping with the human version of Gumby. Yes, that’s right. Sexy little Gumby girl.
TDoT: You are a mother to four boys, which basically makes you Wonder Woman, sans the Lasso of Truth and the kick-ass red boots. What’s your take on the explosion in so-called “mummy blogs”? Am I correct in assuming that, as long as I’m a single guy with no children, I’ll never understand them?
TFoH: Hey now, don’t sell me short! I still have the Lasso of Truth, and it’s used constantly on the boys. I had it upgraded from gold to invisible, however. It helps me maintain the advantage since, at 5’4”, my children are rapidly outgrowing me.
Why would I get rid of the boots? They keep hubsy very satisfied. No, do not ask to see them; that’s what Google is for, you dirty perv.
Honestly, I do follow a few of the “mummy blogs”. Many of them are weekly disappointments that make me feel just as superhero as I did sans kids. They are the ones you’d never choose to read, let alone understand. With that said, in my book of great taste, there is only one shining star; I actually think you’d love it for being a mummy blog and somewhat understand it in all its glory. Rants from Mommyland is truly the epitome of greatness in the aforementioned genre. What other mummy blog could have a Christmas program called “Helping Hookers”? Between their language, sarcasm, child art fails and plain awesomeness, anyone would fall in love with them. Seriously, they’d almost make you want to have kids, Lyndon.
TDoT: You don’t know me at all, do you? Did you say something about hookers? As a tribute to the commercialised absurdity that is now Valentine’s Day, you dared me to write a piece about the worst dates I’ve ever been on. Now, it’s your turn. If you were to list your top ten, who would take the coveted number one spot?
TFoH: I’ll try to keep this answer from becoming its own post. There was a guy who thought women’s suffrage was just a fantasy in my mind. Now, I’m not a Feminazi, but I do believe it equality. Plus, I’m very opinionated, strong-willed woman—
TDoT: You don’t say.
TFoH: Shut the hell up, Lyndon. I have had numerous guys tell me I belonged “pregnant, barefoot and in the kitchen”. I have also had guys think it was a great idea for me to be pregnant for the next umpteen years so they could have a “clan”, “basketball team” or “militia”. Some thought I should wear dresses that covered me up and that I shouldn’t speak unless spoken to. I felt kind of sorry for them when they met “Women’s Suffrage” face-to-face. Well, face-to-fist. Yes, my right hook has a name.
Luckily, I don’t have to worry about that shit anymore. I’m glad I did wait it out and didn’t settle for less. My right hook has been retired for a good minute, as have the backhanded slaps. Now if I want to get a point across I just have to speak. Or throw a loaf of bread. But that’s only if he sings Tim McGraw, and it’s done playfully.
Author’s note: Chrystalyn didn’t read my question properly and actually gave me the full top 10, but to save you from reading until 2019, I’ve only included the biggest dumbass she’s dated in this post. If you want to read about the other nine, ask her.
TDoT: If you could be a character from any piece of literature, who would you be?
TFoH: Oh, Jesus! Fuck! I didn’t actually mean I’d want to be Jesus. I’d fuck that one up. Badly. I’d be all, “Fuck you. Fuck you. Oh, and Judas, fuck you!”
Another author’s note: I dared her to use “fuck” four times in a sentence. In hindsight, it wasn’t my best work.
I apologise now, but I’m only human. Do you know how much I read? We have a mini library for us and the children, for heaven’s sake! We buy more books than we do clothes or toys. Some people have cats. Some people have trash. We hoard books—
TDoT: What’s the answer to the question?
TFoH: Well, what do you mean? I’m always a character while reading a book. I have been Alya from The Clan of the Cave Bear. I’ve been Ethan Frome. I have been both Narcissus and Goldmund in the book by Herman Hesse. I often reread books just so I can experience it from a new perspective. It’s a lot of fun to do every other chapter in character-rich tales. I suppose it could make me crazy, but loveable, right? I have also been you, Lyndon. Standing in your Underoos with the fridge door wide open, trying my hardest to figure out where that damned empty Coke can came from. How scary is that?
TDoT: What the fuck is an Underoo? You openly admit to being, in your words, “a conspiracy theory nut”. Does that mean you wouldn’t be willing to remove the coat hanger-adorned tin foil hat for the rest of the interview? What’s your favourite conspiracy theory?
TFoH: I think you’ve been staring into the mirror and talking to yourself for too long, Lyndon. I haven’t been wearing my tin foil hat. It interferes with my Wi-Fi signal.
I’m not good with all these very general “favourite” questions; you do love torturing me. Conspiracy theory is like a science to me. There is an art to finding the facts within the fiction, which is very much like how I find fiction in the stories the media assert as fact. The difference between fact and fiction is perception. One of my favourite conspiracy theory learning moments was when hubsy and I were talking about 9/11 and he asked me if I would rather blow up my own country’s buildings and people, causing thousands of casualties, or take no initiative and let the damage fall or blow naturally, causing the majority of a city to take a hit and potentially putting millions of lives at risk.
This is how we attempt to keep ourselves from being biased while researching all angles of a theory.
I’m not going to tell you what we think about the 9/11 theories, because it is a sensitive subject for everyone, even us. As for a conspiracy theory I constantly find myself coming back to, it would be in regard to the Catholic Church and their libraries and archives. What is in them? What are they hiding? If I ever had a chance to go and take a gander at what’s on those shelves, I’m sure I’d have a knowledgegasm*. It would likely be my last day on Earth. Not because of the Catholics themselves, but because I’d probably die from the intensity of the knowledgegasm. Actually, just thinking about it gives me goosebumps and a schoolgirl grin.
* Author’s note: I’m pretty sure this isn’t a word.
If you’d like to take part in the experiment that is The Dissemination (of Thought) Files, send me an email regaling me with obscure – and amusing – facts about yourself. If you don’t, there’s a fair chance next week’s installment will see me interviewing either another voice in my head or a toaster.