Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Path: utzoo!linus!philabs!cmcl2!seismo!think!mit-eddie!mit-vax!oaf From: oaf@mit-vax.UUCP (Oded Feingold) Newsgroups: soc.singles Subject: Makeup and catastrophes Message-ID: <757@mit-vax.UUCP> Date: Mon, 22-Sep-86 17:59:22 EDT Article-I.D.: mit-vax.757 Posted: Mon Sep 22 17:59:22 1986 Date-Received: Thu, 25-Sep-86 05:28:25 EDT Organization: /libertarian/h:j Lines: 81 Keywords: I don't know why I'm confessing this Summary: probably trying to make up for past negative comments Someone said warpaint turns him off, but a little makeup, taste- fully applied doesn't. I started thinking about it and discovered my reactions aren't like that: Normally, I'm off-put by small quanta of makeup, designed to ef- fect "minor" enhancements, since I have the prejudice that paint usu- ally won't improve on nature. With some exceptions, the standard fare leaves me cold. Hooker-paint (the kind seen on the street) is excit- ing at a distance, sadful up close. But its lower level of "classi- ness" than Yuppie decoration makes a stronger impact - I like it bet- ter, though not more than ordinary skin. However, I am sometimes very turned on by something _utterly_ gar- ish, to the extent that it has me puzzled. Herewith the tale: ------------------------------ ------------------------------ I was once at a restaurant with some friends, when a woman (actu- ally two, but I'll only write about one until the end of this post- ing) sat down at the next table. She was plenty attractive, in a bal- let-dancer-turned-karate-sensei-turned-ninja sort of way, very grace- ful, very dangerous. But that wasn't the most striking thing about her. She had dyed her hair platinum and fluffed it out (the Priss Baty look.) Her eye sockets were shadowed so they were just black lacunae. The effect wasn't a death's-head; nothing sunken-looking, and an amaz- ing match of satin gloss at the edges of the eyelids, matte finish elsewhere, like waking up to see a black panther looming over you. (This has only happened to me in miniature, with a 20-lb cub sitting on my chest and looking down at me. Plenty impressive anyway.) Her face was painted dead flat-finish white, but her lips were bright green, shiny and with full color saturation, like a broadleaf tropical plant. Her clothes were heavy-metalloid, down to her sequined shoes. Poor me. My throat tightened up so I couldn't speak or even swal- low (I'd have drooled involuntarily if my mouth hadn't suddenly gone dry,) my heart raced, I broke out in a sweat, and a predictable physi- ological reaction happened with aching intensity, total suddenness and complete inevitability. There was a pounding in my ears, I'm sure my pupils dilated, and my visual field contracted to foveal vision only - I saw nothing outside an elliptical range that barely contained her body. No pain, but there were lot of anomalous pressures and sen- sations in various parts of me. We are talking total response here - when your body speaks, sometimes you just have to listen. Mind you, this woman was not trying to look "pretty," nor human, nor even like a carbon-based life form. I'm kinda worried about that. When I regained my composure, I recalled that some of the more in- teresting neurotoxins (among elapids, primarily[*]) have similar effects, right down to involuntary priapism and ... I wonder to what chemical in her makeup I'm allergic, and where I can get a ton of it. If I see her again and survive the experience, I'll be sure to ask. If I can speak. But there's always the chance that it was purely an aesthetic re- action, since I can recreate a fair part of it by concentrating on the memory and fantasizing. ("Is this a flashback I see before me?") The most embarrassing thing - she noticed my condition, walked up to our table, coolly (silkily) said hello, and how was I doing, and sat back down. MY companions were left wondering how I knew her, and why I wouldn't say anything. I couldn't! [Oddly enough, that's not the first time that happened - ten years before, my lover and I were playing frisbee in the park when the same thing hit us simultaneously. Luckily, we were within two blocks of my apartment, and we made the most of it. Ahh, departed youth...] ------------------------------ ------------------------------ With my luck, I'll meet her again and discover the magic ingredi- ent was on her companion, whom I remember not at all. Moral: It doesn't pay to be too dogmatic about makeup. My apolo- gies to those I've flamed on this subject. [*] See Minton, Sherman, VENOMOUS ANIMALS - some damn publisher, some damn city, early '70s copyright. -- Oded A. Feingold MIT AI Lab 545 Tech Square Cambridge, Mass. 02139 {allegra|ihnp4!mit-eddie}!mit-vax!oaf OAF@OZ.AI.MIT.EDU 617-253-8598