From Toronto, current magazine intern monkey. Hopefully future magazine employment LADY. And yes, I have a corgi. His name is Darwin and he says hello.
By greyeminence on The Rob Ford Pie
I live in Toronto, and while I'm appalled that my city has been thrust into the international limelight for such a lurid reason, a small part of me is just thrilled that Toronto has been THRUST INTO THE INTERNATIONAL LIMELIGHT. Gawker never used to mention Canada at all, and now look! I feel like Carrie White - ignored for ages and then finally, belatedly, crowned prom queen.
(Never saw the entire movie...I assume it ends with Carrie being happy and well-adjusted and reigning benevolently over her contrite peers, right?)
@Jim Behrle I don't know if Jim's a jerk. I do know he wrote a lazy piece.
What The Fuck Is This Post, alternatively:
As a survivor of rape and sexual assault who is deeply concerned about the HUGE lack of empathy/concern that males have for women in society that contributes directly to male violence against women, the 'do it for the lulz' apathetic tone of this article grosses me out.
Honestly, just knowing a piece like this would get put up makes me so uncomfortable reading here. I don't know if this is clicking with any editors but many women actually face all the shit that this article is half-assedly trying to address, most often in the context of abusers. You know, like, this behavior that's getting mocked? It's how women are pushed down and belittled IRL every day. We don't need some dudebro writer trying to convince women he's ~so edgy and informed~ making us relive all the Nice Guy bullshit we face our whole lives. So, while sometimes I can get irritated by an article, this literally just leaves me feeling queasy.
Whatever point was attempted to be made by this has just failed miserably. Really disappointed. It's really confusing having posts like this when The Hairpin generally attempts to approach women's issues in a, I don't know, CARING way? :/ It has always felt like one of the safer spaces to read, especially for enjoyment, so coming across this as I'm trying to relax just makes me very confused as a reader. I could understand if it ended up on the Awl or something. Or if I was reading Jezebel. Lol. ://///
A piece concerning empathy in males that's relevant. http://www.salon.com/2013/10/24/5_ways_sexual_assault_is_really_about_entitlement/
"This is all according to the New York Times, of course, and who knows more about sex than them?"
And, of course, who knows better about women's orgasms than Jim Berhle? Thanks so much for this long-winded proof that you're A Nice Guy.
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself, if we are white, cisgendered, straight men.
@lovingskyfairy I think it's pretty clear that you just lost the internet, frankly. That was an astoundingly hateful thing to say.
I hope that, someday, when you're sitting alone some quiet Tuesday night, you think about what you just said, and realize what it means about your character, and who you are. Because it certainly doesn't reflect anything about S. Elizabeth.
@tuntastica 2 months, dude. 2 months. Grief fucking sucks.
And I give S. Elizabeth mad props for being very open about the fact that she is grieving right now, and that is affecting her responses.
@annie d m@twitter I was just thinking about that Shopaholic movie that was based on that book, and I was kind of like, geez, even in Shopaholic she had the sense to sell her stuff to pay her bills, y'know?
@Scar892 Wow, do you enjoy being one of the Worst People Ever? Because seriously. there is a time for Shutting The Fuck Up, and that was it.
By Veronica Mars is smarter than me on How My Obsession With Furnishing A Future Put Me Nearly $40,000 In Debt
Eugh. Okay, look.
A lot of the comments have been perceived as personal attacks on the author. Which, I mean, the version of herself that she paints here? Not likable! Sure, she made a lot of very poor decisions as a young adult, and I cringed as I read about them; but they weren't the real reason I felt animosity towards the (imagined) author. Throwing in fleeting thoughts on the love of a good man because [who knows]? Treating what are honestly very commonplace growing pains as celebrated, insightful revelations? Inserting the murder stuff that is clearly an integral part of her young adult experience (clear from the comments/her other writing, NOT from this essay) in an awkward manner, seemingly as an afterthought, as a diversion from the judgment of her readers? Describing "dusty riverbed trailer parks" to paint a bleak picture of home, when she has made it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR to her audience that she didn't come from those trailer parks? These aspects of the essay make it hard for a reader to identify with the narrator, however close or far she may be from the real-life woman who wrote her.
But that's not the point.
The point is that the piece really needs to be edited/proofed; that the essay reads like a second draft, not a final product, and shouldn't have been published as such.
The point is that the title, especially to a Hairpin audience, sets audience expectations counter to the attitude and subject matter actually found in this essay; that it sets the reader up for disappointment and anger when she expects a real but light-hearted "LOL DEBT" piece and instead finds a sincere almost-defense of extravagant and undiscriminating spending.
The point is that there's no focus, no lesson, no conclusion to this piece.
The point is that this author self-identifies as a writer, and she chose to write and publish this essay.
Obviously it is hard for an artist to separate herself from her work, especially when the work is of a personal nature, like this essay is. But if the author is going to put her work out there for everyone to see, she has to let it go. The world is full of people with different opinions, different backgrounds, different circumstances; different personal interpretations of her words. This essay doesn't belong to the author anymore, it belongs to the world. Writers have to accept that, to let their work go, in order to have any hope of (emotional) survival in their field.