Let’s Say You Can’t Stand Beyonce

let's say you cant stand beyonce

People who have criticized Beyonce have been subjected to the wrath of her fans and the loss of their jobs. Some have endured death threats. It is clearly not acceptable to dislike Beyonce, lest the Beyhive come after you or your family.

Personally, I would never speak against her. But let’s say there was something you didn’t like about Beyonce. Let’s say you thought her talent was overrated. Let’s say you wished she would sing the damn song instead of riffing on each note for twenty minutes?

Let’s say you were tired of the fans blowing her hair extensions, I mean hair? Or let’s say her entire manner bothered you, her stance of “Can you believe how incredible I am?” Maybe you think she takes divahood to a staggering new level, making Barbra Streisand look humble in comparison? Or let’s say you thought her stage outfits were trashy and ridiculous, and not in a good way?

You’d probably be in big trouble. You would be flying in the face of all that is sacred and most damning, you’d be accused of racism. To criticize Beyonce is to disrespect the Black community. It would be tantamount to waving a Confederate flag. Why? Don’t ask me, I’m just here to pose philosophical questions.

But I skimmed through an essay called Why Beyonce Matters and learned this:

There is little doubt that Beyoncé’s recent work is seismic in terms of its representations of black racial identity and feminism. Here is one of, if not the, highest paid female performers in the world grappling with issues of misogyny, sexuality, infidelity, black feminism and self affirmation in ways that have never been seen in the mainstream music industry.

Beyoncé has opened a discourse that explores the place of famous women as agents of both political and monetary prowess. That in itself is worthy of respect.

Here’s an article on why her performance at Coachella was an Important Cultural Moment. It’s like she’s Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., and Harriet Tubman, all squished into a sparkly leotard!

What if you watched her onstage at the Global Citizen/Nelson Mandela concert last week, and you searched your brain for a word that summed up your reaction to her regal deportment, and you thought, “INSUFFERABLE!”

You’d have to keep it to yourself, I know that much. If you even tried to defend yourself by whining, But I love Rihanna!, you would only dig yourself in deeper. Either give Bey your fealty, or suffer the consequences, you fucking closet neo-Nazi.

Posted in Celebrities, Words | Tagged , | 14 Comments

Banned Words and People for 2019

banned words and people 2019

What a horrible year, right? Why can’t Trump just die so we can let the refugees have a nice soft bed and a hot meal?

Meanwhile, we’re not totally helpless. We can complain about words and word usage. We can vow not to use them in 2019, and like on Peewee’s Playhouse, we can scream really loud if someone says any of them.

new normal
wellness

folks (instead of “people”)
gender fluid
toxic masculinity
fake news
eatery
turmeric
manosphere
insta-worthy
gah
ally
self-care
helicopter parents
hook-up
best self

I can’t remember if I’ve done this before, but let’s also ban the people we don’t want to hear about (or from) in 2019, okay?

Beyonce
Halsey
Roger Stone
Ariana Grande
Kanye
Monica Lewinski
Lil [Anybody]
Cardi B and Offest
Tiger Woods
Clint Eastwood
Virgil Abloh
Childish Gambino
Mark Zuckerberg
Camila Cabello
Sheryl Sandberg
the Trivago guy
the My Pillow Guy

I know I’m forgetting about a million people and words.

Help me out.

Posted in Celebrities, irritants, Words | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

Stranger in Paradise: Evangelist Gets What He Deserves

evanagelist gets what he deserves

Reading about John Allen Chau, the young American evangelist who was killed by tribesmen on a forbidden island, my first response was, Didn’t he see The Wicker Man? But the more I learned, the more I rooted for the isolated tribe, who are “arguably the most enigmatic people on our planet,” and descended from the first modern humans to leave Africa.

North Sentinel, one of India’s Andaman Islands, is off-limits to everyone, even the Indian Navy and Coast Guard, who protect it from afar. The tribe who lives there has killed or tried to kill nearly everyone who dared to come ashore, most recently (until now) a fisherman in 2006. On a mission to spread Christianity, Chau achieved his dream of visiting the island, only to be slain for his trouble.

The population of North Sentinel is estimated at somewhere between 50 and 1oo. In the late 19th century, a British naval officer kidnapped several of the islanders, at the time describing them as painfully timid.

He took them back to his house on a bigger island, where the British ran a prison, and watched the adults grow sick and die. After returning the children to the island, he ended his experiment, calling it a failure.

“We cannot be said to have done anything more than increase their general terror of, and hostility to, all comers,” Mr. Portman wrote in his 1899 book.

“Over the next century, few outsiders ever returned. Just about anyone who dared to visit was greeted by flying arrows. In the 1970s, the director of a National Geographic documentary took one in the leg.”

Another isolated tribe that shared the island, the Jarawa, responded more positively to outside contact. Within 20 years of contact with anthropologists, the Jarawa began to roam the neighboring settlements, begging and dancing for money. Activists regarded contact missions as a kind of cultural destruction, and the Indian government eventually agreed, adopting a strict no-contact policy to protect the inhabitants of North Sentinel.

Is it paternalistic of India to protect the island from outside contact? Is it aiding in the tribe’s extinction? Or is it a rare instance of a government doing the right thing? To me, the answer is obvious. John Allen Chau was a nutcase who is being hailed as a martyr by his Christian buddies, but he got what he deserved. Evidently, Jesus agreed!

There is more amazing footage of North Sentinel here. Without wishing to be all National Geographic, life on the island looks like paradise. If you want to go deeper, there’s a history of North Sentinel here, from 2000.

*Just remember that if the US owned North Sentinel, it would be a golf course.

 

 

 

Posted in News, Religion | Tagged , | 10 Comments

Glamping: The Stupidest Thing Ever™

To launch this new category, The Stupidest Thing Ever™, I’m going with “glamping“, a concept that comes with its own stupid word.

“Glamping” is a portmanteau of glamorous and camping and describes a style of camping with amenities and, in some cases, resort-style services not usually associated with “traditional” camping.

Apparently, this stupid practice has been going on so long that the American Glamping Association launched in August, joining World of Glamping (whatever that is) to promote the growing “industry.” There’s also Glamping Hub.

It looks like I’ve been totally out of the fucking loop, as usual, but I’m trying to catch up. As I understand it, glamping is for people who want to be outdoors but don’t want to rough it. In millennial speak, it’s for people who want unique experiences.

Now here’s where I know I’m not a millennial: I DON’T WANT A UNIQUE EXPERIENCE! If I’m traveling, I want a 100% normal  experience! When I went to London in September, I didn’t think, “Shit, I’m staying in a nice hotel in a nice part of the city, right near an underground station”. I didn’t wish I were in a teepee in the countryside or a barn with sheep. I have actually had some “unique experiences” while traveling, such as someone pointing a gun at me (England), a stranger slapping me (Italy) rape (Greece) and a really terrible acid trip (Wales.)

No thank you!

Also, how stupid would you feel to stay in an actual cave that had room service and a designer bathtub? How could you pretend this wasn’t stupid, you know? I discovered the cave hotel while scrolling through the offerings at glamping.com. The destination for this experience is Sextantio Le Grotte Della Civita, in southern Italy.

glamping the stupidest thing ever

The restored ancient caves will provide “an out-of-time journey through the traces of the uninterrupted presence of the man in this area, from Paleolithic times to the present.”

The hotel rooms occupy the caves themselves. What separates Sassi di Matera from merely sleeping in a cave is a certain dedication to luxury. Your bathroom may be a bare rock cavern, but you can trust in your Milanese host’s taste in fixtures and fittings: your bathtub is the finest money can buy. Prehistoric man might never have ventured outside the caves if they had bathrooms like these!

For fuck sake.

stupid glamping tub

But let’s say you don’t want to pretend you’re Fred Flintstone. What else is there? The co-founder of the American Glamping Association notes that people have different needs.

For example, if you really need complete isolation, then a glamping location that has just one very unique tent is the place for you.

What kind of motherfucker needs one very unique tent???? The kind that takes an hour to describe what kind of beverage he wants at Starbucks? As if such a person would even go to Starbucks when he/she/they/it/x could only be happy with single origin coffee, reverently prepared in a kabuki ritual by a barista wearing a crisp hemp apron.

So much privilege. So much stupidity.

Are you a glamper? Is glamper even a word? If you have any firsthand (or secondhand) glamping stories, let’s hear them!

Posted in irritants, Rants, Words | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

A Good Cry

a good cry

How long have you been watching the news and feeling like crying? Last week was the worst but it’s been going on a long time. Of course there’s rage, but as the true horror keeps building and obliterating everything else, there is grief.

I just want to cry when I hear his voice. When he turns everything to shit. When he finds a new way to shock our sense of decency. I want to cry but I suck it up. You can’t go around crying all the time when you’re already exhausted and besides, you’re trying to aim for numb.

But maybe a good cry would be cathartic. The weight you feel when you think about the world might be lightened, just a little. Crying exists for a reason. Tears of despair are supposed to be biologically useful.

We’ve had our days of marching but we need a day to cry. Before the midterms or after the midterms, it doesn’t matter. If we take over the senate, we can add relief to our reasons for crying.

Every community can gather at a Starbucks or the library. We need to make sure it’s a secular event. No praying, just crying. We’ll all bring tissues.

a good cry

And let me be clear: We won’t “weep.” I hate the contemporary use of that word, like it’s a badge of honor or an accomplishment to “weep.” We will cry, and we will cry hard. We can even sob.

If you don’t want to cry, that’s your problem. Go ahead and get an ulcer or colitis or heart disease.

If you do want to cry, what will you cry for most? Me, I will cry for the stupidity and racism that brought us here. And for hippos.

Are you in or out?

Posted in Disorders, grief, Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged , , , | 13 Comments

But You ARE a Baby, Motherfucker!™

but you are a baby

How sick are you of hearing Trump say the word “baby?” Bad enough that he uses it to insult others but now he’s going around insisting that he isn’t one.

BUT HE IS! He’s a big goddamn baby who can’t take any criticism, who doesn’t know how to say he’s sorry, who doesn’t know how heartbreakingly dumb he is, and who walks around with toilet paper on his shoe! BABY!

He has baby hands, a baby pout, a baby’s rage at Mommy, and let’s face it, all women are  stand-ins for his bad mommy. That’s why he’s so deranged about Hillary, Stormi, and Nancy Pelosi. Let’s not forget Dr. Blasey Ford, either. If you’re not Ivanka, you’re just a menstruating horse-faced pigdog.

Two days ago, he insisted that the “caravan” of people heading our way from Honduras and Guatemala are criminals, even terrorists, and felt compelled to use the B-word:

but you are a baby

If you have a twitter account, stop reading for a minute and go tweet at Donald Trump. Tell him he’s a baby. Do this for your country and for your blood pressure. Do it for the knot in your stomach when you hear his voice or see his face. Do it because you’re not allowed to kill him. Do it for every tired refugee hoping for a better life. Do it because he’s ruined democracy.

but you ARE a baby motherfuckerThen come back and tell me how it felt. I don’t have any stickers like the one that says “I Voted” but virtue is it’s own reward, okay?

xoxo

Posted in Disorders, News, Rants | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

London, the Horror.

London horror

I went to London with the expectation of enjoying the usual pleasures of travel, only to find that the horror follows me wherever I go.

After a few days of feeling like I was coming down with a cold, I was unable to get out of bed. I coughed all night and day, watched BBC TV, and finally hurt my back in a stupid move to hide from the room service guy when my sister opened the door without warning me.

Crippled, feverish, coughing my head off, I was determined to catch my flight home, where I was diagnosed with pneumonia.

I’m not saying it was all bad. Not at all. It was amazing to be back in London, where I lived as a teenager with no parents to curb my waywardness. What a time! Hashish and Mandrax all night, reading all day, I formed my adult sensibility there with the help of some arty college students who took me in.

It was amazing, but so different from the London of 1969. It is ridiculously crowded, and people don’t mind smashing into you if you don’t walk fast enough. The streets are full of beautiful immigrants and native Londoners who give you conflicting directions when you ask which way to Spidalfields Market.

I managed to go to the National Gallery, the British Museum, Harrods, Camden Passage, and to meet a couple of dear blogging friends who I’ve loved from afar since forever. I flirted with a hot street performer who passed under a flaming limbo stick. I ate a bunch of scones and learned to effect an all-new, obnoxious English accent.

London, the horror

But what I’ll remember most is the horror of being sick, in agony, worried about bursting my eardrums on the flight home and counting each hour while mentally repeating, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.

I came back on October 8th and I’m still pretty screwed up. Now that I’m almost done with coughing, I can really appreciate the pain in my back whenever I move or don’t move.

What about you guys? Anything?

 

Posted in Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged , | 8 Comments

Sans Weedkiller

hair-check for London

Sometimes people worry when I go silent for awhile, thinking I might have drunk the weedkiller. I really appreciate the concern, by the way! But I’m going to London for a couple of weeks *sans weedkiller, and I plan to have a great time.

Museums, Harrods, museums, Camden Passage, museums, curry, Fortnum and Mason, Miista, etc.

I haven’t been to London in forty years, but I know that Primrose Hill and Hampstead are still there so there will be some good nostalgia to be had.

Enjoy your break from my whining or read shit in the archives. Write to me if you think of somewhere I should go in London.

 

*Easily the stupidest and most maddening word in contemporary writing, I use it here to show my love xo

 

Posted in News | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

Soon Yi, Woody, Mia, and Ronan: No.

soon yi woody and daughter

I was going to comment on the creepy new interview with Soon Yi Previn, but after delving into her family history, I’m disgusted with all of the players, including that stupid Ronan, who wears blue contact lenses to look more like Frank Sinatra.

Fuck these awful people, especially Mia Farrow, who adopted Asian children like salted peanuts, even getting a congressman to change US adoption law to accommodate her colonialist agenda. Farrow has adopted ten children and given birth to four, married three powerful men who were old enough to be her father, and I think we can say it’s been a mess.

In her interview, Soon Yi makes it clear that she hates Mia, who adopted her from Korea when she was 5 years old. Mia is portrayed as an abusive lunatic. Luckily, Woody Allen came along and started taking an interest in Soon Yi when she was in the 11th grade and they began going to Knicks games together.

One day, Woody showed Soon Yi a Bergman movie (not making this up!) and then they kissed. One thing led to another, and you know, the heart wants what it wants.

But Soon Yi thought it was only a fling. Fucking mom’s boyfriend was probably meant to piss her off, not drive her insane. Next thing you know, the nude spreadeagled Polaroids, the accusations of molesting another Farrow daughter, and therapy for 4 year old Ronan, who either did or didn’t hate his daddy, who is either Woody or Frank Sinatra.

I’m telling you, these people are monsters. Soon Yi and Woody are the parents of two adopted daughters, who are now in their teens and endured a battery of “the best tennis lessons, piano, guitar, ballet classes, whatever.” Soon Yi will have to wait until they give their own interviews to hear the final verdict on her mothering skills.

Meanwhile, she spends her days doing Pilates, going to museums with her driver, and shopping for clothes.

Since the interview was published, Ronan and six other siblings released a statement defending their mother, and Dylan reminded people that Woody molested her. Ronan, coincidentally, is making a career out of outing molesters. It’s like in this family, you are either a Molester or Molestee. Or Frank Sinatra’s love child.

Yes, Woody Allen is a fucker and one I’ve never forgiven for having sex with Soon Yi. She appears to be a hateful spoiled creature who is frighteningly lacking in empathy and not sharp enough to keep her elderly husband away from their nubile daughters. Hello, Soon Yi? Remember that Bergman movie?

Click the links if you dare, and tell me if any of these people are not completely nuts.

Posted in Celebrities, Disorders, Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Fashion Trends: Logomania, Sisterwife, Prostitute, Bigfoot,

bigfoot balenciaga

Like every fashion-conscious consumer, I spend time every day scrolling through the latest arrivals at Matches, Net-a-Porter, ssense, Neiman Marcus, LL-CC and websites I’m too embarrassed to mention.  I consider the scrolling a duty, and a big success if I don’t want anything.

The trends I’m seeing lately fall into four categories. Logomania is by far the most offensive. We expect declarative logos from Gucci and Chanel, but now they’re everywhere, on everything. Fendi has gone all out, with it’s logo defacing nearly every item. Those Fendi F’s were never exactly eye candy; now they’re a genuine blight.

logomania fendi poncho

Balenciaga, Lowe, Off-White, Kenzo, Helmut Lang, Martine Rose, Valentino, Vetements, even the famously nondescript A.P.C. is getting in on this. You won’t have to wait till next year for people to feel sorry for you if you invest now in an ugly Balenciaga bag with the word BALENCIAGA slapped across it in block letters.

logomania balenciaga

Remember how at one point, we all agreed it was stupid to be a human billboard for brands? Sports brands were the exception, like Adidas crowns and stripes. Fashionable people shunned logos as vulgar, while the aspirational (i.e., middle class) shopper continued to long for a real or fake Louis Vuitton bag to prove their social standing and discretionary income.

Today, according to Emily Gordon-Smith, head of fashion at research consultancy Stylus, the key word behind the Logomania craze is “irreverence.” She thinks that people who buy into this trend are doing it ironically. On the other hand, designer Martine Rose insists her use of logos is “post-ironic.” Whatever the excuse is, this trend needs to stop. I think I speak for every non-It-Girl when I say that if I need to know what brand you’re wearing, I’ll ask you.

Also having a long moment is the Sisterwife look, sometimes described as a “prairie” look by style editors trying to persuade you to buy cowboy boots. High necks, long skirts, and ruffles add up to a self-conscious schoolmarm effect that would be cute at a butter-churning party but has no place on a city street. I mean, fine, it’s your choice, but it’s the opposite of chic, if that matters to you.  Just take it away for fucksake!

Saint Laurent is pushing its signature prostitute look, but even more aggressively than usual in its leather hotpants worn with thigh-high boots. Attico is climbing on board the hooker wagon with some feathered mini dresses that barely cover the butt. Balmain is sticking with garish leopard print and sequined mini’s whose plunging necklines drive home the sex-for-sale aesthetic. Even Christopher Kane has succumbed with trashy-looking velvet mini’s for evening-wear.

balamin prostitute

prostitute dress attico

Finally, we have those big shaggy coats that keep coming back to haunt us, but this year it’s less groupie than Bigfoot. “Fun” colors and raggedy textures seem to be saying, “Just kidding!” and to signify faux fur to the vegans among us. But some brands are sticking with fur, like oversized shearling jackets with quirky buttons or trimmings to counter the old-school glamour of  wearing dead animals. Look for Givenchy‘s “voluminous” chevron-pattern fake fur to be knocked off by Topshop et al. in the next ten minutes.

bigfoot givenchy fur

Other trends like menswear suits and plaid mash-ups will be asserting themselves, and luxury brand street-wear will be ever-present until someone makes it illegal, but the four fads I’ve focused on are the ones to avoid (or indulge in, as the case may be) as you consider your style options. Remember: More is more except when it’s already too much.

Posted in Fashion, News | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments