Roll me in designer sheets/I’ll never get enough
I had this big X-Files deconstruction post all set to go and suddenly I thought, “What the hell are you doing?” and I scrapped it. I just couldn’t be arsed to do it. I don’t want to write that way about pop culture any more; I never did. I want to write about pop culture the way I want to write about it and I know people can handle it. Moments like the one with Dianne Steinberg are exactly what I’m after. I have always sought kindred spirits and when I LJ’d I totally had them. I miss those people. Who seemed to get me for exactly who I was and didn’t expect me to teach them things they weren’t going to incorporate into their lives anyway. Moreover, I don’t want to interact with the kind of people who think I’ve got something to teach them. I don’t want to bite my tongue about crappy pop culture – if forced to take a stance – or pretend I feel anything other than contempt for those who find xkcd or LOL CATS humorous. Seriously? No, I don’t need it explained to me. Inane, unfunny corny whiteness is fairly easy to understand. Why not try some subtle humor. If I’m gonna indulge in some captain obvious humor it’s gonna involve Betty and Veronica or Benny Hill. I am having such a blast at IFMiB, mostly because my co-bloggers are funny, smart and write about stuff I actually find entertaining to read even if I’m especially jazzed by the subject matter. People talk a lot of chow chow about wanting to create media reflective of their life experiences and respectful to folks of various life experiences, yet there is very little acknowledgment of folks who actively work to create those spaces – like my cohorts at Fry Butt. Everyday we’re being funny, cheeky, smart and actively trying to avoid engaging in -ism fail.Where is this coming from? Oh my god, someone send me a long scathing email calling me – of all things – a dour feminist. That shit stung. I am a billion things, but I am NOT dour. Now, I know many people who have had that criticism hurled at them are in fact, quite dour, but not me. I am fun, baby. It’s about time I started acting like it. Seriously, if you need education or smackdowns you better get the fuck up on out of here. I mean I guess if you have single serving faux-oppression coupled with whiteness it probably feels all sexy and hot to be making a Rosa Parks moment about everything that ever happens, but if you’ve got real oppressions, then you’ve got better shit to do. Like looking at nekkid pics of Richard Gere from thirty years ago.