How to like problematic things
- know they’re problematic
- know why they’re problematic
- don’t dismiss people’s feelings/dissatisfaction with them
- don’t silence people when they’re talking about the problems in your media, because your enjoyment is not more important than that discussion.
Congratulations, you’ve reached the minimum level of decency for being a person who enjoys things that might be problematic.
this! it’s ok to enjoy problematic things but discussing WHY it’s problematic is also good news bears.
While everyone was praising Nas for his ‘Daughters’ track, I was underwhelmed and perplexed at how his lyrics could be interpreted as “positive.” I see no positive message in reinforcing a culture that elects to put “extra” (read: locked up in a tower Rapunzel style) parenting on their daughters but not the same for their sons. If we spent more time raising our sons with same ‘caution’ we do our daughters, we’d have nothing to fear. THIS convo would not be happening. Granted, women face more danger, I don’t care who agrees with that or not. We do. Danger inflicted on us by men. Yes. So wouldn’t it make more sense to…oh, raise better men? Just an idea…In the same way your daughter can get pregnant, your son can get someone pregnant. In the same way your daughter can be violated, your son can be too. Or worse, he can be the one perpetuating that violence. Someone has to be “those predators” right? They are someone’s son. It could be your son. But no one wants to preach “don’t rape” we’re in the habit of putting the sole responsibility on the ones we were originally in the business of protecting. “Don’t GET raped! DON’T GET RAPED!” Boys are allowed to embody the patriarchal heteronormative privileges of doing whatever the hell they want to do, when they want to do and how they want to do. With little concern to whom is on the receiving end of those potentially dangerous activities. If we continue police state parenting for our daughters and ‘boys will be boys’ laissez-faire for our sons we WILL CONTINUE TO LOSE. ”
It was bound to happen. Where’s the Meryl one?
In August of 1990 I found myself laying on my stomach in the woods with a pair of binoculars, a bottle of Canadian Club, and my friend Kurt Cobain. The reason why I had the binoculars was because I was the lookout while he ran across the street to a “teen pregnancy center” that had just opened in our town. It really wasn’t a teen pregnancy center, it was a right-wing con where they got teenage girls to go in there and then told them they were going to go to hell if they had abortions. Since Kurt and I were angry young feminists in the ’90s we decided that we were going to do a little public service that night. We drank our Canadian Club and he watched out while I went across the street and wrote, “Fake abortion clinic, everyone,” because I was kind of like the pragmatic one or whatever. He was more creative so he went over and in six-foot-tall red letters he wrote, “God is gay.” [applause] ”
I plan on getting a ‘god is gay’ tattoo