I have not read E L James’ Fifty Shades of Grey for lots of reasons. Despite the first person narrative of way too many posts on this blog, I dislike books written in the first person.[1] And based on the excerpts I have read (because I was curious, and some of the smartest women I know have read this book) Anastasia Steele Grey’s inner manic meta-being is just too exhausting (two halves of which are presented by her Inner Goddess and her half moon glasses wearing Subconscious, which unlike the IG, doesn’t get to pant along in post-climatic afterglow) and exhaustingly stupid, as is James incorrect use of “metaphorically,” “figuratively,” and her overall abuse of poor Icarus.  You are hang gliding, dumbass, not flying into the sun.  IHOP is not Mount Olympus. [2]  Continue reading “Conduct Unbecoming an Inner Goddess” →