Tag Archives: fucking bullshit

Lost in Termination

In the inaugural piece for her new GQ series “The New Canon,” Natasha Vargas-Cooper writes the following:

Whether reverence for movies from a bygone era is rooted in merit, nostalgia, or neurosis about film being an inferior medium to literature, movies keep pace with social mores of a time and deserve to be free of the tastes and prejudices of people who grew up without Quentin Tarantino.

Am I crazy, or is Vargas-Cooper completely full of incoherent shit? I really want to know! Every time I reread the intro section of her article, I question my sanity a little more. Is it an elaborate prank? Is she trolling her readers? Or does she really believe that “any movie made before, say, 1986 has received its due respect”? Is she just trying to flatter the ignorance of her audience? Or is she trying to look edgy and populist in a way that, as Glenn Kenny rightly points out, is about half a century behind the times?

Mind you, I’m just addressing the article’s first five paragraphs and their philistine manifesto. The rest of the piece, discussing Terminator 2, is pleasantly written and generally inoffensive, hardly appropriate for the first skirmish in a culture war. Where are the bold claims and aesthetic gambits suggested by her introductory bravado? She really just echoes what everybody’s been saying about T2 since it was released two decades ago. Could it be that she’s all bark, no bite? Or that she has no idea what the hell she’s talking about?

Take a sentiment like this: “[I]t’s an obligation that every generation must take upon itself in order for art to thrive: tear down what’s come before and hail our own accomplishments as good enough. Otherwise we exist in a sort of dead time, retreating back to the nostalgic and sacrosanct.” Why, it’s like she took a handful of somewhat iconoclastic ideas, then mashed them together without worrying about whether or not they made any kind of sense!

Because yes: it is good to question received wisdom. (Duh.) But no, it’s not good to “hail our own accomplishments as good enough”—i.e., settle for mediocrity. This seems obvious. Is this obvious? I mean, why would any person with a modicum of critical thinking skills ever want to trash everything that came before the past 25 years, let alone use that desire as a battle cry in a GQ article? (And on what planet does being open-minded cause us to exist in a “dead time”?)

I could go on and on about Vargas-Cooper’s ridiculous bullshit—her reference to nonexistent “purists” who refuse to discuss Paul Thomas Anderson; her framing of the series as a wacky but noble experiment; her apparently belief that militant anti-intellectualism and blatant ageism are radical ideas—but I’d be wasting my breath. The point is that we have enough blind spots as it is; we don’t need to validate them! And for Natasha Vargas-Cooper, the lesson is that you can slaughter sacred cows without slaughtering your own credibility.

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Filed under Cinema

This post is for Britni

Tonight, I read a piece of vile, victim-blaming apologist bullshit in regards to something that happened to Britni. Britni is someone that I admire. I enjoy her blog a LOT. I look up to her brash, unapologetic sass and her cute sense of style and how she’s not afraid to call out a rape culture for what it is. Britni is not afraid to talk about when she is sexually assaulted or raped; she is giving a strong voice and face to sexual assault survivors everywhere and for that she is one of my heroes.  Britni gets a lot of shit heaped on her. And it makes me sad.

If I tell you no, stop. It doesn’t matter if I’ve said yes to 1, 2, and 3, if I say no to 4, you fucking stop. That’s called consent.

If I am wearing a piece of clothing that bears a fair amount of skin and I get sexually assaulted don’t you fucking dare blame it on what I was wearing. That is called victim blaming.

If I get raped in the dead of night while walking home from the bar by a group of men, don’t you fucking dare blame me for being out in the middle of the night after drinking. That is called rape apology.

How about we as a fucking society start blaming THE RAPISTS AND MOLESTERS for their own fucking actions? We always want the victim to take responsibility for their actions; why not the fucking criminal in the matter? I’ve quoted this before and I’ll quote it again, from Shakesville:

Quite literally, the only thing a person can do to avoid being raped is never be in the same room as a rapist. Since they don’t announce themselves or wear signs or glow purple, that’s not a very reasonable expectation, is it?

Enough victim blaming. Enough.

I’m sick of seeing rapes and sexual assaults being used as ammo as to why female sexuality is the thing that is so damned dangerous rather than all the rapists out there who are doing the goddamn raping. I’m sick of it. Britni doesn’t deserve to be blamed for her sexual assaults. When Britni felt uncomfortable with the situation she tried to leave as quickly as possible and then she was further violated; but it’s still her fault for not making enough of a scene. Because you know, making a scene always stops them in their tracks. Fuck that noise. Fuck that rape apologist bullshit. STFU, rape apologists.

Britni, this post is written entirely for you. For you and in defense of you. Because you don’t deserve that bullshit and even though you’re strong, sometimes everyone needs people standing behind them, giving them support. <3

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Filed under Body, Health, Personal, Sexuality