REORIENT ALL YOUR FAILURES. DROPPED THREE MUGS ON THE FLOOR TODAY? DISASTER CHIC. WORE THE SAME STAINED SHIRT FOUR DAYS IN A ROW? GARBAGE CHIC. DIDN’T BRUSH YOUR HAIR? TAKING “ARTFULLY DISHEVELED” TO PREVIOUSLY UNREALIZED LEVELS OF GLORY. DIDN’T BRUSH OR WASH YOUR HAIR, FOR THE PAST, LIKE, WEEK? YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL MAGICAL PRINCESS OF THE FOREST, EMERGING BLINKING INTO A STRANGE URBAN LAND. FUCKED UP PAINTING YOUR NAILS? ABSTRACT AND INSOUCIANT. WHO CARES, LIFE’S WEIRD, YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL AND STRANGE CREATURE, W H A T E V E R
I keep trying to summarise the last six months in Australian border politics for people outside Australia but all I can come up with is: I feel an intense sense of panic that something is happening that will be looked back on by almost everyone, once enough time has passed, as shocking passive acceptance of great evil. And the same people who do this now will try and smooth it over and create a narrative of inexorable progress that exonerates them from reflection, will say then, like they say now, “well, they didn’t know any better at the time” or “nobody knew what was really happening” and there won’t even be anything to point to to say we did, we did, we knew, or at least we knew there was something to know and chose not to investigate… People are being handed back to their torturers, people are being murdered, killing themselves, people are being disappeared by the Government before they can testify about these things. Please find out about what is happening to asylum seekers coming to Australia, please talk about it, please protest your local Australian embassy, please boycott Australia, please hassle Australians you meet about it, p l e a s e
every time I think about it I am reminded of this quiz made and promoted by a popular ~lifestyle website, the purpose of which was to grade people on how [cool suburb] they were, and one of the questions was, like, how would you rate yr r/ship w/ yr barista? or something, and I keep thinking, well, smirky emoji.
When you are a woman and you use a confessional narrative, people tend to think there is not some more complex structure of thinking or philosophy behind that narrative. I needed to bring some of that background thinking more to the fore, otherwise, it failed…
… I am passionate about ideas. They’re not just the stuff of spectatorship and entertainment to me. They’re a life-blood, and that’s what makes the intellectual process so radically different from the academic process.
Part of the challenge for insurgent intellectuals, particularly those of us who are artists in this society, is to pull back from academe, actually, and academic settings, precisely to break this notion that has become so popular in the culture, that the two experiences are one.
zayn - “your cover’s blown” you’re a strange aberration / In this land of potted plants and box-like houses / where the girls like mouses / breathe a long sigh of resignation / you resign yourself to keep on growing / all the seeds you’re sowing / you’re a strange apparition / in this land of grammar schools and gala days / the ladies set in their ways
harry - “there’s too much love” i could dance all night like i’m a soul boy / but you know i’d rather drag myself across the dance floor / i feel like dancing on my own / where no one knows me, and where i can cause offense just by the way I look
niall - “another sunny day” another day in june, we’ll pick eleven for football / we’re playing for our lives the referee gives us fuck-all / i saw you in the corner of my eye on the sidelines / your dark mascara bids me to historical deeds
louis - “the boy with the arab strap” we all know you’re soft cause we’ve all seen you dancing / we know all you’re hard cause we all saw you drinking from noon until noon again / you’re the boy with the filthy laugh
liam - “electronic renaissance” you’re learning, soon you will do the things you wanted / since you were wearing glitter badges / If you work for much very longer / you’ll be known as the boy who’s always working / If you dance for much very longer / you’ll be known as the boy who’s always dancing
“Students who considered themselves socialists were not so much interested in the poor as they were desirous of leading the poor, of being their guides and saviors. It was just this paternalism toward the poor that the vision of solidarity I had learned in religious settings was meant to challenge. From a spiritual perspective, the poor were there to guide and lead the rest of us by example if not by outright action and testimony. As a student I read Marx, Gramsci, and a host of other male thinkers on the subject of class. These works provided theoretical paradigms but rarely offered tools for confronting the complexity of class in daily life.
[W]hen I told friends and colleagues that I was resigning from my academic job to focus on writing, I was warned that I was making a dangerous mistake, that I could not possibly live on an income that was between twenty and thirty thousand dollars a year. When I pointed to the reality that families of four and more live on such an income, the response would be “that’s different”; the difference being, of course, one of class. The poor are expected to live with less and are socialized to accept less (badly made clothing, products, food, etc.), whereas the well-off are socialized to believe it is both a right and a necessity for us to have more, to have exactly what we want when we want it.”—bell hooks, where we stand: Class Matters, chapter 4 (via elucipher)
And there she is. See Ruth. She finds herself in situations, suddenly, on strange couches of strange men, pretending to listen.
He is still talking to her about himself. She is bored. He never asks about her. He puts on a record and starts talking about the band playing but she has never heard of them. He is dumbstruck. He begins to lecture her on the band’s significance in music history, world history. She pretends to listen. She stares at her empty wineglass. She catches herself looming above her. She is her own ghost.
do not sexualize young girls. yes, I am kink shaming you. because you should be ashamed of yourself for sexualizing young girls, and no one’s sexual liberation is more important than protecting young girls.
Liberalism believes a Muslim woman’s biggest oppressor is her hijab and not military intervention, drone strikes, institutionalized sexism/misogyny, capitalism, imperialism, u.n. enforced sanctions, etc.
“Young lesbians do not experience sexism and homophobia as separate events; instead, the two forms of harassment are mutually reinforcing. It is simply impermissible, according to rigid rules of social behavior, for girls to reject boys. It is an unforgivable transgression for girls to “compete” with boys for the attention of other girls. Thus lesbians, and particularly lesbians who identify as or are perceived to be “butch,” are punished for violating gender norms and because of their sexual orientation.”—Human Rights Watch, Gender and Homophobia (2001)
“well, the fashion industry is not a hotbed of feminist practice. it’s just not. but it’s also a place where women traditionally could succeed, where women held extremely high positions long before they did elsewhere.”—
she also says: “one thing is that you learn that, in the end, shit’s still run by men. at the very tippy top, it’s still run by men. one of the things i realized in my career was that you can break the rules and be seen as a maverick, but you still always have to play the game. and you still have to suck up to the guys in corporate, in an incredibly retrograde, mad men style. i don’t want to say that with bitterness, because that was the reality. it was just the reality. that to me was kind of amazing, to see that we’ve come an enormously long way [but also see] incredibly powerful women—brilliant, running huge things—just flirt like little girls with powerful men because they needed to. and they didn’t want to sleep with these men, they just had to pump these men’s egos up. i don’t disrespect them for that; that’s part of the game. that was kind of poignant.”