I was at the opening night of the One Direction movie, you know, 1D3D? I had the same sparkly fangirl backpack as a twelve-year-old in line, and I spent five minutes watching her watch me apply lipstick in my compact. On the brighter side, the feral intensity of that teen girl gaze is what I think can really weaponize narcissism, too. Like, sometimes I like to think about Tumblr, the ultimate zone of teen girl boredom and selfies as this giant mechanic assemblage with this languid temporal quality of waiting and scrolling and waiting and scrolling and how it’s this long moment that allows for a resistance to emerge and hold. But also I think about how Tumblr is just this processed excess of demand and desire, and it’s this very pressurized excess that literally flattens IRL persons like Harry Styles and Ryan Gosling into paper-thin templates. Almost like you can leach the life out of these characters, so instead there’s this vampiric community of sublimely narcissistic adolescent flesh, and I would be more than happy for the world to end with its knees buckling to this heterogeneous mass.
trisha low on her new book the compleat purge at bookslut. trisha and i had a class together a few years ago, but i didn’t really get to know her, because i was busy having that major depressive episode. however, i do remember telling people that i was impressed by this girl who regularly wore see-through tops to class. “she takes it even farther than i do!” excellent taste in bras. (via karaj)
not ashamed that i felt faint with delight when i saw this. i watched kara in that class (and beyond that class!) just like how that 1D3D fangirl watched me watch her while I applied lipstick in my mirror, which is to say with deep admiration; complicated, jealous worship and an inability to shatter the fourth wall - until now, i guess.
sometimes purge feels like a shadow, which is also how my tumblr couldn’t really be operative when i was writing (stalking as sisterhood? what is the threshold for creepiness on this anyway?). thinking about the ritual matricide of feminism and how the level, reflective planes here in tumblr can turn hero worship metabolic rather than into a straight massacre. i hate being grateful but i am grateful for this. also for mesh tops, and definitely for lingerie.
<3. i’m in love with your phrase “techno-aesthetic melodrama” and description of the temporality and possibilities of tumblr. mesh tops + lingerie + creepiness forever.
twitter advice from Lana Del Rey +
more of both, but she’s still a genius.
wrote a dumb story about using Taylor Swift to ward off gross men and they put it in Women’s Vertigo and made it look pretty.
“I think that what’s important now is to mobilize hysteria as a quasi-revolutionary force. Hélène Cixous insists it is an inherently revolutionary power: it intervenes, breaks up continuities, produces gaps and creates horror—refusing conformity with what is. Feminism could benefit from an affirmation of hysteria; hysteria as a response to what is unacceptable and intolerable in life… as a response to emergency.”
Instead of labeling some technologies and not others as assistive, let’s start like this: We’re all getting all kinds of help from the things we make. All kinds of help, all the time, for our many material and social and educational and political needs. Private needs and public ones. No one is exempt. Then the questions get really interesting: What can a body do? What needs are you interested in? Who might use which thing for what? Where might the surprises be? How might a familiar thing morph into something else altogether?
of the six dispositions for designers on disability, number one: question invisibility as the assumed goal for assistive tech.
maybe we’d like our hearing aids to be beautiful or awesome or punk rock…or anything but that dreadful, medicalized, so-called “flesh” color.
this is the singular thing that is core to all the work i do and things i am interested in even if i it is not explicit
top three lines of “national anthem”:
- he told me to be cool, but I don’t know how yet
- um, do you think you’ll buy me lots of diamonds?
- blurring the lines between real and the fake