``Stop! don't change the station. Channel surfing's for couch-belly, bonehead, men. Am I right! Ladies: you pick a routine and stick to it. Another thing: don't ever tune to a male fitness-G to tell you how best to build your body. We let them screw with us too long. Just look at your art history, Ladies. We've been painted as these abstract figures, with no boudaries, no defintion, nothing but smooth, puffy shapes floating quietly in the clouds on some ceiling for priests and poets to oggle at. You've all seen those horrendous Renaissance and Impressionist paintings of women's bottoms, depicted as these huge, flabby cushions of fat. The truly post-modern woman will only come when society is forced to admit one thing: the butt is a muscle. Yes, repeat that, ladies.''

``My butt is a muscle. My butt is a muscle.''


That's right. Not a pear. Not a bun. Not two cuddly cakes---But a muscle! Stop the opppression. Start building gluteal mass. Climb stairs! Run!