We can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm.
Her stories are boring and stuff, she’s always calling my bluff
- The other night my friend Ry and I were watching Interpol videos on YouTube because I had never seen what these jokers looked like or any of their contributions to the video discourse – despite T-milling to Ob 1 for years, being somewhat of an Interpol early adopter and owning pretty much everything they’ve ever put out. Ry said, “Why couldn’t they get a woman who could fucking dance? This is really unfortunate dancing.” While this was certainly my assessment of the dancing, I wasn’t necessarily bothered by it. I said: “They’re damn if they do and they’re damned if they don’t. If they put a girl who raged it like Beyonce, folks would have been screaming about how fucking hipster assholes are always misappropriate shit. Interpol made the right choice here. We deserve this bad dancing because we’re never fucking satisfied.”
“Allies” are to me what hipsters are to other people: white folks who are generally insufferable and want positive recognition for that which has long been known to folks of a particular culture, which allies/hipsters have “just” figured out. I have been called both before I can assure you it was used as a pejorative. Though I think I’d rather be called a hipster than an ally. Just as I’d prefer to eat hospital food rather than airline food. At least in the hospital they can both make you quite ill and also save you. Obviously, I am not a hipster. I am too brown, too unmoved by the ironic nature of oversized Cazals – I wore Cazals earnestly in junior high along with leggings, acid wash and outfits consisting of a mishmash of loud primary colors – I exceed the weight limit by sixty pounds, and I don’t like leaving my house looking dirty, high or ridonkulous.
That said, the puppet video was creepy as fuck. That puppet has that 99% nearly human factor and our brains are disturbed by the missing 1% Sudden Valley thing1 or whatever its called. Yeah, I could definitely see myself marinating a chicken or this puppet in it.
Gentlemen I’m talking about my own needs
- Nicholson Baker is kind of a perv, based solely on the books he writes. He has a book where he freezes time and uses this power to GROPE women. What I admire about his work is there are probably tons of guys who have fapped about the time-stop grope machine, but Baker’s the only dude who could effectively bring it to life.
Anyway, he wrote a book called Vox I read over a decade ago and it sticks with me in a pleasant and inspiring way. While the book concerns itself with a long phone sex chat between two strangers, I mostly like finding ways to slip its best line “Gentlemen I’m talking about my own needs2.” into every day non pr0n contexts, generally while giving one of my diversity for dummies presentations. It helps keep my “eyes on the prize” so to speak.
There have been two instances when someone got the reference and acknowledged it to me. Once, it was a guy I knew I was losing because he didn’t think of himself as a sheet wearing klansman. He had a sensitive arrangement of Captain Caveman facial hair, twinkly Santa eyes and probably felt finding me really hot was enough to demonstrate just how NOT racist he was. In any case, when I said the line – under the guise of taking about owning one’s own reaction to racial bigotry – his eyes lit up like jackpots. We shared a knowing smile. He mouthed “Vox?” I nodded. He paid attention to the rest of my presentation. I threw in a few more secret messages to him as a show of good faith.
The other time involved a similar set of circumstances except this time it was a woman who waited until I was done with my presentation. She came over to me and rubbed against me like a cat. She said, “Vox?” then she said, “I hate people, but I don’t hate you.” Which is EXACTLY the kind of thing I say upon being surprised by the awesomeness of one person in a sea of mediocrity. She and I are friends. Nobody understands why we are friends. She does not talk much except to me. She will talk my ears off. She’s like that little kid in those Disney commercials blathering while day turns into night. Except I love listening to her. She also has a lot of snarky opinions on everything, which I thoroughly enjoy. She hates activists, “activism” and “cookie seeking motherfuckers”. When she does group trainings if someone is trying to restate what a marginalized person has said she will shriek, “TRANSLATING! do not want!” I love a woman who can just put it out there. It’s helpful that like me, she’s pocket sized. Very small, fine featured and petite. We stopped trying to buy vodka together because our combined youthfulness – we’re both hurdling towards 40 – makes for distrustful liquor associates.
1 The Uncanny Valley is Masahiro Mori’s theory describing why there is a point where robotic things are just too freaking creepy to deal with. I read enough speculative fiction to know of this theory, though I have never really heard it identified by name before. At least now I can cry, “UNCANNY VALLEY” whenever someone tries to get me to watch a Pixar film. Their movie posters always gave me the creeps and the only one I’ve seen is Monsters Inc and that was recently.
2 “Gentlemen I’m talking about my own needs.” is a line uttered by some pr0nny actress to a man wearing a wide yellow tie with bling symbols on it in a pr0n called Pleasure so Deep. It’s just bad pr0n dialog, but when taken away from its pr0nny roots – like Charlie taking the angels away from their dangerous and grueling police work – it becomes amazing and often hilarious – also like Charlie and the angels.