@cmranapia I am not a rape apologist. Please retract that ridiculous statement.
— Keith Olbermann (@KeithOlbermann) December 16, 2010
So yes, Keith Olbermann had a chit chit with Michael Moore the other night and Moore described Julian Assange's sexual assault charges in a very incredible, not at all good way! Now it's war, reasonably—spearheaded by Awl pal Sady Doyle on behalf of, you know, women who press rape charges and are met with scorn, suspicion and undermining—with Olbermann totally unwilling to understand why people are upset.
Here's a story for you. It's an old story, and it goes like this: There's a place where we're in charge. You've never seen it. You can't visit. It doesn't exist—it's in the future, or it's in the past, or it's just sideways, outside our borders, somewhere no one has been. But us, the girls, we run everything there. There aren't any men. Or: There were men, but we kicked them out. Or even: There are men, but they answer to us. This place is always threatened. This place is always on the verge of being invaded. This place is always just about to change. [...]
Before we begin, let us be clear: We speak not of the Rivers Cuomo that was, nor of the Rivers Cuomo that is, nor yet of the Rivers that shall be. We speak, now, of the Platonic ideal of a Rivers Cuomo: The Rivers Cuomo you have never met, nor ever can meet, nor can ever be sued by (subsequent to writing a blog post that uses his name quite a lot), but who lives, nevertheless, within your brain. Specifically, if you happen to have grown up in the 1990s, and are heterosexual, and also a girl.
Because you totally have one. I mean, come on.
Hot out there, huh? You're mopping the sweat from your brow as we speak, right? You're tired and out-of-sorts and generally irritated. Basically, you want to punch someone. It's okay to admit it. We all do. It is a natural part of summer in the city.
I was having maybe the worst month of my life when I saw Aliens at the Landmark Sunshine, and I'm pretty sure it was the only thing that saved me.
The details are fairly mundane. I was unemployed; I'd been dumped; I'd decided to deal with all this by hooking up with a stranger, and of course that had gone in the direction of broken condoms and Plan B and hormonal anarchy, probably just because I didn't think anything worse could happen. Right when you think you've hit bottom, sweet Baby Jesus comes and puts a curse on your junk. It had taken serious work, [...]
Memorial Day, the unofficial beginning of summer, is on Monday, so we asked some folks to publish on that topic throughout the week. This is: Here Comes Summer!
It was summer, friends, when I was punched in the face by a complete stranger in Times Square. Summer, when a nice middle-aged lady from whom I apparently stole a much-coveted seat on the N train called me a "wretched little bitch" under her breath for several stops. Summer, when a man stole a cab from my mother and I responded, after a failed attempt to point out that we had been the ones to flag it and open its [...]
The planet Earth, source-point of the human race, ended in fire and flood and catastrophic nuclear-weapons automation mishap in 2012. Strangely, the entire human race appears to have been aware of the impending nuclear-weapons malfunction some eleven months in advance, but no means of preventing it were discovered. Nevertheless, approximately one hundred people survived, traveling to Mars in terraforming vehicles containing supplies and selected genetic samples. There, they began the colonies which would become the basis of our Empire. But only those deemed most crucial to the survival of the human race, by dint of talent, accomplishment, authority, or adorability, were chosen.
Some activists chose to protest what they [...]
So, here's another story for you. It's grimmer than the last one, but we tell it almost as often. It goes like this: She's perfect. She's perfect because we made her perfect; because everything about her is entirely within our control. She's your long-lost love, your new and improved wife; she's the girl you never got over, or the girl you could never have. And now, she loves you. She has no choice; loving you is what she's for. Until, one day, she gets too smart. She starts thinking in ways she's not allowed to think. She gets political. And that's the point at [...]
"But abnegating her own beliefs in order to stand by her man-even as he did things that affected innumerable lives, things she apparently knew to be wrong-was exactly 'traditional,' and the worst kind of tradition. The really troubling thing is how much people liked it: How a woman publicly enacting lack of engagement, lack of opinion, lack of self, was met with such sky-high approval ratings and such wide applause." -That's Sady Doyle on the secret life of Laura Bush, and it is all kinds of oof.