This is serious. I am surrounded by American college students, and not a single one is charged with fiery excitement over the imminent release (this is starting to sound sexual) of the movie WATCHMEN.
Not a one.
Will I be forced to wear bright blue tights and shoes, in a clear and witty tip of the aesthetic hat to Dr. Manhattan, all alone at Gaumont Parnasse*?
Because that will be sad. I will do it, but it will be sad.
*get it, because, see, it’s in “Mont-parnasse”
Conversely, and in a spectacular show of bad taste and misplaced priorities, everyone was all gung-ho to see Banlieue 13: Ultimatum, and— actually, B13U was really cool.
I hear it’s a sequel, but that doesn’t matter at all because what it’s really about is parkour, exposed male flesh, and the politics of race and class in a futuristic France. Mostly the first two things.
It is completely ridiculous, and I loved every second of it. Wanna see the trailer? Of course you do.
Also, Luc Besson wrote the screenplay. If suppose if I had just said that, you could have inferred the rest.
Filed under: life, movies | 1 Comment
I know you may be lonely. Are you enjoying yourself? Have you been to the Louvre? Do you have enough money?
I love you!
Filed under: life | 5 Comments
Tags: love, paris, school, traveling
You know what elephants look like, right?
Roughly like that. They are huge, powerful, and generally magnificent.
They are most emphatically not slender. They’re kind of known for that. Therefore, if you need your cereal mascot to be built like an action hero, with a big barrel chest and a trim waspish waist, you probably shouldn’t choose to make that mascot an elephant.
This is not a hypothetical suggestion. This is a reaction to this piece of “what the hell damn balls is this shit”:
Real elephants do not look like that, Kellogg’s people, not even the young ones. They look like this:
and they will continue to do so no matter how much you disapprove, and no matter how bad you make them feel about it.
Love, but only for the elephants,
Filed under: feminism, life | 2 Comments
Tags: beauty norms, fat, open letter
It is not, perhaps, entirely because the whale is so excessively unctuous that landsmen seem to regard the eating of him with abhorrence; that appears to result, in some way, from the consideration before mentioned: i.e. that a man should eat a newly murdered thing of the sea, and eat it too by its own light. But no doubt the first man that ever murdered an ox was regarded as murderer; perhaps he was hung; and if he had been put on his trial by oxen, he certainly would have been; and he certainly deserved it if any murderer does. Go to the meat-market of a Saturday night and see the crowds of live bipeds staring up at the long rows of dead quadrupeds. Does not that sight take a tooth out of the cannibal’s jaw? Cannibals? who is not a cannibal? I tell you it will be more tolerable for the Fejee that salted down a lean missionary in his cellar against a coming famine; it will be more tolerable for that provident Fejee, I say, in the day of judgment, than for thee, civilized and enlightened gourmand, who nailest geese to the ground and featest on their bloated livers in they pate-de-fois-gras.
But Stubb, he eats the whale by its own light, does he? and that is adding insult to injury, is it? Look at your knife-handle, there, my civilized and enlightened gourmand dining off that roast beef, what is that handle made of?—what but the bones of the brother of the very ox you are eating? And what do you pick your teeth with, after devouring that fat goose? With a feather of the same fowl. And with what quill did the Secretary of the Society for the Suppression of Cruelty to Ganders formerly indite his circulars? It is only within the last month or two that that society passed a resolution to patronize nothing but steel pens.
–Moby-Dick, or The Whale by Herman Melville
Filed under: uncategorized | 1 Comment
or, What the hell is wrong with the people I live with?
“All women are like that, all sluts like that.”
“Government would be more fair if some of us didn’t have to support lazy people.”
“If she didn’t want her body to be used as a sex object, she shouldn’t have become a prostitute.”
Obviously I can’t let these comments pass unchallenged. I have done so in the past — we all have. We all know how bad it feels to ride out a hateful conversation for the sake of temporary harmony. It’s not worth it.
Unfortunately, I’m a stranger in these parts. I’m the new kid. It’s not a big deal when I’m around friends and someone says, “He’s not sexist, more like anachronistic,” and I snap back, “So it’s not sexism if you’re just old?” The conversation may falter briefly, my closest friends look at me with either love or exasperated affection in their eyes, everything is fine.
This is not the case among new acquaintances. I’ve been here for only a month, and the unacceptable remarks keep piling up. The three quoted above are from the last week alone, the final two from the last 48 hours. The heavy silence that descends over a table, the discomfort that seeps out of an authority figure with a horror of stepping outside written guidelines into questions of right and wrong — these experiences are becoming more and more familiar.
As they do so, my understanding of my own personality shifts and shakes. When everyone in the room stares as if at someone wearing a dynamite vest, or when all my dinner compatriots avert their eyes, the solid foundations of my personality seem to crumble. Kind, intelligent, funny, loved? Not now, not in this room, not among these people. My closest friends are becoming accustomed to the question, “I’m not a bad person, right?”
I’m not thrilled at the prospect of having some kind of militant buzzkill reputation within my home, but the common thread of my antagonism is the insistence on universal human dignity. I am willing to stand by that.
Ultimately, I am far more afraid of an environment in which all can comfortably take hatred for granted than I am of the distaste and discomfort of my peers.
Filed under: feminism, life | 4 Comments
Tags: class, misogyny, speaking up