First things first: If you've never read Martha Nussbaum's review of Harvey Mansfield's Manliness, do it now, and come back to finish reading this post when you're done. If you're reading this sentence and still haven't read the review, I'm on to you*.
Now, the real point of the title of this post: I found myself actually caring about the outcome of a football game today, specifically, the Super Bowl. Yes, a good portion of that caring was motivated by empathy for someone I love who really cares about the outcome of football games, but still, I got into it in the chest-pounding, crotch-adjusting way I have previously only associated with Miller Lite-swigging Midwesterners. And it was awesome.
Of course, out of fear that roaring in joy/rage at black-and-yellow- and green-and-gold-clad silverbacks** as they engage in rules-directed displays of virility and dominance would cause my uterus to exvolute***, I had to reclaim the traditional feminine role and bake something to munch on while I watched.
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Who needs to braid pretzel after pretzel when you can just make conveniently bite-sized soft pretzel bites? With cheesy dipping sauce, no less.
I do not own what the recipe calls "kitchen sheers," but a very sharp knife worked just as well to cut the pretzel niblets.
There were also kale chips, and brownies left over from yesterday.
As to the outcome of the game... Let's just not talk about it.
*You don't have to know me too well to know that I think Martha Nussbaum is an incredibly exciting human being. I'd love to hear her speak one day.
***There was this idea, dating from early Western thought, that if women engaged in too much physical activity and overheated--heat was, of course, essential to and associated with masculinity--their uteruses would flop out and become male organs. There exist cautionary tales from the seventeenth century of women riding their horses and before you know it, they'd take a too-vigorous jump, and Aphra Behn's your uncle, phalluses all 'round.
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