9 September 2002
Little. Yellow. Gravitational.
"What is the value of the pencil test?" asks Susanna Cornett. "What, precisely, does it prove?"
What it proves, I think, is that the contemporary all-breasts-are-beautiful stance is not making much headway against the old-style stereotyping implicit in the test, and that almost everyone has a pencil to spare.
Bette Midler used to do a bit of shtick about this, in which she found herself testing not only with pencils but an entire typewriter, fercryingoutloud. Finally, she fetched the postal scale, positioned the flesh on the platform, and declared, "I'm not saying how much it weighs, but it costs $87 to send it to Brazil."
At some point, I fear someone is going to ask me for a preference, and frankly, I don't have one, though I suppose I would tend to prefer an intermediate sort of structure, somewhere on the continuum between the extremes, neither gypsum wallboard nor Anna Nicole Smith. (Bless you, O mighty bell curve.) But I concede that the nicest pair ever presented for my, um, inspection as distinguished from those only viewable at a distance had, in fact, been surgically modified to near-perfect just-shy-of-C curvature.
A hell of a good reduction job, if you ask me, and worthy of a fresh, unsharpened Eberhard Faber No. 2.Posted at 7:30 AM to General Disinterest