whos afraid

Sanuk Toddler Who's Afraid Sandal,Multi,X Small (US Toddler 8-9 M)
$21.95
The Who's Afraid sandal by Sanuk is similar to their larger (and very popular) Fraid Not and Fraidy Cat sandals. Like its larger cousins, the Who's Afraid sandal features an anatomically correct molded footbed with arch support and a frayed canvas strap.

Sanuk makes these sandals in XXS (Toddler 8-9), S (Toddler 10-11), M (Youth 12-13), L (Youth 1-2), XL (Youth 3-4), and XXL (Youth 5-6). We've labeled them size Toddler 9, Toddler 11, Youth 13, Youth 2, Youth 4, Youth 6 respectively. So order a sandal your size or one size larger.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? [VHS]
$19.98
There are a few distinctively American artists -- Norman Mailer comes immediately to mind. And then there are many more pale imitators of European art that happen to be American, and are rewarded because of American chauvinism. Edward Albee falls into the latter camp. There's something powerful and authentic when Samuel Beckett and Albert Camus write about the meaningless and absurdity of the human condition but when Edward Albee writes there's something wildly immature and annoying.

Albee's first work "Zoo Story" which is a childish imitation of "Waiting for Godot" can be forgiven as exactly that: a childish imitation. But what are Albee's excuses for "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf?"

George (Richard Burton) is a middle-aged small-town college history professor who is married to the college president's daughter Martha (Elizabeth Taylor). Once full of promise and vitality George now resorts to alcohol and bitter violent fights with Martha to pass the time. One night they invite over a couple who are a younger, much more vibrant version of themselves -- and the two take this as an opportunity to reflect on the life they cursed themselves with.

Because Edward Albee is considered a genius and because "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf" is considered one of the greatest films of all time I searched for meaning and substance in the film, and after forty minutes I became desperately bored, began fast forwarding, and then eventually just gave up. There were moments when I did feel that the film was trying to say something but decided it wasn't true because the film didn't really develop that theme and that theme was really juvenile anyway -- I mean, would a serious playwright use for his masterwork the theme that marrying for money and position will only make you miserable?

In the end I could only conclude that this film is merely a visual projection of all the anxieties and phobias, self-loathing and narcissims -- in short, the collected mental masturbation -- of a playwright who just happens be homosexual and childish and depressed. The articulate protagonist is a stand-in for the playwright, someone so witty and luminous yet underappreciated by the world and trapped in an impossible situation with a hysterical wife. The wife Martha represents either the playwright's mother or just a generic impression of all women: violent and insane, selfish and self-indulgent, a whore and a witch.

Albee then takes this disjointed and incoherent worldview, and slaps on a flimsy and hackneyed plot, and puts it on stage -- and everyone calls it art and genius. So why do you hate yourself and the world so much, Mr. Albee, when life is this easy and wonderful?

To be fair this play was written almost half a century ago when psychology wasn't so developed. Back then they did not understand what was "co-dependency" and "bipoloar depression" and "borderline personality disorder" and writers could only re-create these things on paper from the rough sketches of their personal lives. But so what? Great writers are great because they are overly attuned into the peculiar nuances of the human condition: Shakespeare did not have to major in psychology to create the convincing and powerful psychological portraits of Hamlet and MacBeth and King Lear and Othello.

It is perhaps all too common to fear and to misunderstand something, and then quickly dismiss it as "crazy" or worse "genius." "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf" is in the lucky position to find itself labelled as "genius" by a society that fears and misunderstands it more than it appreciates and understands it.

Who's Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf?
$0.99

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
$14.00
I bought this book out of curiosity because of the rave reviews. The dialogue was disjointed throughout the play and I cannot image any period in American history when people might have spoken or acted as George and Martha do in this book.

I know that the story is not meant to depict any actual event, nevertheless, the story is told with all of the subtlety of a beating with an axe handle. There is nothing nice or redeemable or enjoyable about this story. Even if one considers that it is meant to portray "life without false pretenses", this story is about as enjoyable as an uncontrollable bout of the dry heaves. I would prefer to be kicked in the stomach repeatedly and vomit in my own shoes for hours rather than be forced to read even one more page of this tripe again.

I've read the account of the life of Virginia Woolf, and it is about as enjoyable as this book. She was a deviant schizophrenic victim of childhood sexual abuse who happened to grow up in privileged English society in the early 20th century. Being the daughter of privilege has its perks, and sadly for us this means that she was taken seriously by English society, when the truth is that she was just a highly educated, cultured, rich, spoiled, crazy person.

I wish that there were some way that I could get a refund for this book and for the time that I wasted reading it. With every page that I turned I kept waiting for the shocking surprise, or the evidence of the brilliant "original work of art". Trust me, it does not exist.

I'm not a dolt or dullard. I "got" the book and the message. I understand that the author was trying to show what marriage and life is like without social pretenses. I wish that I had the time to express how I really feel about this book, but I've already wasted too much time reading it, and writing this. Do not buy this book. Do not see the play. It is the ugliest, most disgusting, pointless, stupid, boring book that I have ever read in my entire life. Without one molecule of exaggeration do I say this.

I am giving this book five stars because it truly deserves the gold medal for worst thing ever written on paper. Now that I have contaminated my computer by writing this review, I am going to take my computer out to the desert, set it on fire, and shoot it with my shotgun to exorcise this filth from my life. Enjoy wasting your life if you still decide to buy this book after reading this.